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AUTHOR: 


MACMILLAN,  HUGH 


TITLE: 


ROMAN  MOSAICS.OR 

STUDIES  IN  ROME,... 


PL  A  CE: 


LONDON 


DA  TE : 


1888 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 
PRESERVATION  DEPARTMENT 

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Macmillan,  Hugh,  1833-1903. 

Roman  mosaics,  or  Studies  in  l?ome  and  its  neighbor-    ; 
Lood,  by  Hugh  Macmillan  ...    London,  Macmillan  and  co., 

1888. 

XV,  397  p.    18i"». 


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1.  Rome — Descr. 


Library  of  Congress 


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10-18864 


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ROMAN    MOSAICS 


■^ 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


OR 


STUDIES    IN    ROME 
AND    ITS    NEIGHBOURHOOD 


"*•■  :a» 


BY 

HUGH    MACMILLAN 

D.D.,  LL.D.,  F.R.S.E.,  F.S.A.  Scot. 

author  of 

'bible  teachings  in  nature,'  'first  forms  of  vegetation,' 

*  holidays  in  high  lands,'  '  the  riviera,'  etc. 


iLontron 

MACMILLAN    AND    CO. 


AND   NEW   YORK 
1888 


V5 


PREFACE 


-J 

CO 


The  title  of  this  book  may  seem  fanciful.  It 
may  even  be  regarded  as  misleading,  creating  the 
idea  that  it  is  a  treatise  like  that  of  Mr.  Digby 
Wyatt  on  those  peculiar  works  of  art  which  decor- 
ate the  old  palaces  and  churches  of  Rome.  But 
notwithstanding  these  objections,  no  title  can  more 
adequately  describe  the  nature  of  the  book.  It  is 
applicable  on  account  of  the  miscellaneous  char- 
acter of  the  chapters,  which  have  already  appeared 
in  some  of  our  leading  magazines  and  reviews, 
and  are  now,  with  considerable  changes  and  addi- 
tions, gathered  together  into  a  volume.  There  is 
a  further  suitableness  in  the  title,  owing  to  the 
fact  that  most  of  the  contents  have  no  claim  to 
originality.  As  a  Roman  Mosaic  is  made  up  of 
small  coloured  cubes  joined  together  in  such  a. 
manner  as  to  form  a  picture,  so  my  book  may 
be  said  to  be  made  up  of  old  facts  gathered  from 
many  sources  and  harmonised  into  a  significant 


158587 


VI 


PREFACE 


unity.  So  many  thousands  of  volumes  have  been 
written  about  Rome  that  it  is  impossible  to  say 
anything  new  regarding  it.  Every  feature  of  its 
topography  and  every  incident  of  its  history  have 
been  described.  Every  sentiment  appropriate  to 
the  subject  has  been  expressed.  But  Rome  can 
be  regarded  from  countless  points  of  view,  and 
studied  for  endless  objects.  Each  visitor's  mind 
is  a  different  prism  with  angles  of  thought  that 
break  up  the  subject  into  its  own  colours.  And 
as  is  the  case  in  a  mosaic,  old  materials  can  be 
brought  into  new  combinations,  and  a  new  picture 
constructed  out  of.  them.  It  is  on  this  ground 
that  I  venture  to  add  another  book  to  the  be- 
wildering pile  of  literature  on  Rome. 

But  I  have  another  reason  to  offer.  While  the 
great  mass  of  the  materials  of  the  book  is  old  and 
familiar,  not  a  few  things  are  introduced  that  are 
comparatively  novel.  The  late  Dean  Alford  made 
the  remark  how  difficult  it  is  to  obtain  in  Rome 
those  details  of  interest  which  can  be  so  easily  got 
in  other  cities.  Guide-books  contain  a  vast  amount 
of  information,  but  there  are  many  points  interest- 
ing to  the  antiquarian  and  the  historian  which 
they  overlook  altogether.  There  is  no  English 
book,  for  instance,  like  Ruffini's  Dizionario  Etimo- 
logico-Storico  delle  S trade,  Piazze,  Borghi  e  Vicoli 
della  Cittd  di  Roma,  to  tell  one  of  the  origin  of 
the  strange  and  bizarre  names  of  the  streets  of 


PREFACE 


vn 


Rome,  many   of  which    involve   most    interesting 
historical  facts  and   most  romantic  associations  of 
the  past      There  is  no   English  book  on  the  an- 
cient marbles  of  Rome  like  Corsi's  Pietre  Antiche, 
which  describes  the  mineralogy  and  source  of  the 
building  materials  of  the  imperial  city,  and  traces 
their  history  from  the  law  courts  and  temples  of 
which  they  first  formed   part  to  the  churches  and 
palaces  in  which  they  may  now  be  seen.      Every 
nook  in  London,  with  its  memories  and  points  of 
interest,  has   been    chronicled   in   a   form   that   is 
accessible  to  every  one.      But  there  is  an  immense 
amount  of  most   interesting   antiquarian   lore  re- 
garding out-of-the-way  things  in   Rome  which  is 
buried   in  the  transactions  of  learned   societies  or 
in    special    Italian    monographs,  and    is   therefore 
altogether  beyond  the  reach  of  the  ordinary  visitor. 
Science  has  lately  shed  its  vivid   light  upon  the 
physical    history  of  the    Roman    plain  ;    and   the 
researches  of  the  archaeologist  have  brought  into 
the  daylight  of  modern  knowledge,  and  by  a  wider 
comparison   and   induction   have   invested   with  a 
new  significance,  the  prehistoric  objects,  customs, 
and  traditions  which    make  primeval    Rome  and 
the  surrounding   sites  so   fascinating   to   the   im- 
agination.     But  these  results  are  not  to  be  found 
in   the   books  which   the    English   visitor  usually 
consults.       In    the    following     chapters     I    have 
endeavoured  to  supply  some  of  that  curious  know- 


vm 


PREFACE 


ledge  ;  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  what  is  given — 
for  it  is  no  more  than  a  sh'ght  sample  out  of  an 
almost  boundless  store — will  create  an  interest  in 
such  subjects,  and  induce  the  reader  to  go  in 
search  of  fuller  information. 

Many  of  the  points  touched  upon  have  pro- 
voked endless  disputations  which  are  not  likely 
soon  to  be  settled.  Indeed  there  is  hardly  any 
line  of  study  one  can  take  up  in  connection  with 
Rome  which  does  not  bristle  with  controversies  ; 
and  a  feeling  of  perplexity  and  uncertainty  con- 
tinually haunts  one  in  regard  to  most  of  the 
subjects.  It  is  not  only  in  the  vague  field  of  the 
early  traditions  of  the  city,  and  of  the  medieval 
traditions  of  the  Church,  that  this  feeling  op- 
presses one ;  it  exists  everywhere,  even  in  the 
more  solid  and  assured  world  of  Roman  art, 
literature,  and  history.  Where  it  is  so  difficult 
to  arrive  at  settled  convictions,  I  may  be  par- 
doned if  I  have  expressed  views  that  are  open  to 
reconsideration. 

I  am  aware  of  the  disadvantages  connected 
with  thus  collecting  together  a  number  of  separate 
papers,  instead  of  writing  a  uniform  treatise  upon 
one  continuous  subject.  The  picture  formed  by 
their  union  must  necessarily  have  much  of  the 
artificiality  and  clumsiness  of  the  mosaic  as  com- 
pared with  the  oil  or  water-colour  painting.  But 
only  in  this  form  could   I  have  brought  together 


PREFACE 


IX 


such  a  great  variety  of  important  things.  And 
though  I  cannot  hope  that  the  inherent  defect 
of  the  mosaic  will  be  compensated  by  its  perman- 
ence— for  books  of  this  kind  do  not  last — yet 
it  will  surely  serve  some  good  purpose  to  have 
such  a  collocation  of  facts  regarding  a  place  whose 
interest  is  ever  varying  and  never  dying. 

The  personal  element  is  almost  entirely  con- 
fined to  the  first  chapter,  which  deals  on  that 
account  with  more  familiar  incidents  than  the 
others.  Twelve  years  have  elapsed  since  my 
memorable  sojourn  in  Rome  ;  and  many  changes 
have  occurred  in  the  Eternal  City  since  then.  I 
have  had  no  opportunity  to  repeat  my  visit  and  to 
add  to  or  correct  my  first  impressions,  desirable 
as  it  might  be  to  have  had  such  a  revision  for 
the  sake  of  this  book.  I  duly  drank  of  the  water 
of  Trevi  the  night  before  I  left ;  but  the  spell  has 
been  in  abeyance  all  these  years.  I  live,  however, 
in  the  hope  that  it  has  not  altogether  lost  its 
mystic  power  ;  and  that  some  day,  not  too  far  off, 
I  may  be  privileged  to  go  over  the  old  scenes 
with  other  and  larger  eyes  than  those  with  which 
I  first  reverently  gazed  upon  them.  It  needs  two 
visits  at  least  to  form  any  true  conception  of 
Rome  :  a  first  visit  to  acquire  the  personal  interest 
in  the  city  which  will  lead  at  home  to  the  eager 
search  for  knowledge  regarding  it  from  every 
source  ;    and  then  the  second  visit  to  bring  the 


X  PREFACE 

mind  thus  quickened  and  richly  stored  with  infor- 
mation to  bear  with  new  comprehension  and  in- 
creased  interest  upon   the  study  of  its  antiquities 

on  the  spot. 

HUGH    MACMILLAN. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

A   WALK   TO   CHURCH    IN    ROME 

A  Walk  to  Church  in  Country— In  the  Town— Residence  in  Capo  le 
Case— Church  of  San  Guiseppe— Propaganda— Pillar  of  Immaculate 
Conception— Piazza  di  Spagna— Staircase— Models— Beggars- 
Church  of  Trinita  dei  Monti— Flowers— Via  Babuino— Piazza  del 
Popolo— Flaminian  Obelisk— Pincian  Hill— Porta  del  Popolo— 
Church  of  Santa  Maria  del  Popolo— Monastery  of  St.  Augustine- 
Presbyterian  Church— Villa  Borghese— Ponte  MoUe      Pages  1-33 


CHAPTER    H 

THE    APPIAN    WAY 

Formation  of  Appian  Way— Tombs  on  Roman  Roads— Loneliness  of 
Country  outside  Rome— Porta  Capena— Restoration  of  Appian 
Way— Grove  and  Fountain  of  Egeria— Baths  of  Caracalla— Church 
of  Sts.  Nereus  and  Achilles— Tomb  of  Scipios— Columbaria— Arch 
of  Drusus— Gate  of  St.  Sebastian— Almo— Tomb  of  Geta— Plants 
in  Valley  of  Almo— Catacombs  of  St.  Calixtus— Catacomb  of 
Pretextatus— Catacomb  of  Sts.  Nereus  and  Achilles— Church  of 
St.  Sebastian— Circus  of  Romulus— Tomb  of  Caecilia  Metella— 
Sadness  of  Appian  Way— Imagines  Clipeatae— Profusion  of  Plant 
and  Animal  Life— Sohtude— Villa  of  Seneca— Mounds  of  Horatii 
and  Curiatii— Villa  of  Quintihi— Tomb  of  Atticus— Casale  Rotondo 
—  Frattocchie— Bovillae— Albano— St.  Paul's  Entrance  into  Rome 
by  Appian  Way 34-^7 


Xll 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    III 

THE  CUM/EAN  SIBYL 
Promontory  of  Carmel— Westmost  Point  of  Italy— Mode  of  reaching 
Cumce— Few  Relics  of  Ancient  City— Uncertainty  about  Sibyl's 
Cave— Loneliness  of  Site— Roman  Legend  of  Sibylline  Books- 
Mode  of  Keeping  Them— Sortes  Sibyllinae- Different  Sibyls- 
Apocalyptic  Literature— Existing  Remains  of  Sibylline  Books- 
Reverence  paid  to  Sibyl  by  Christian  Writers— Church  of  Ara 
Coeli— Roof  of  Sistine  Chapel— Prospective  Attitude  of  Sibyl- 
Retrospective  Characteristic  of  Greek  and  Roman  Religion— Con- 
nection between  Hebrew  and  Pagan  Prophecy— Pagan  Oracles 
superseded  by  Living  Oracles  of  the  Gospel      .  Pages  88-108 

CHAPTER    IV 

FOOTPRINTS    IN    ROME 

Footprints  of  our  Lord  in  Church  of  Domine  quo  Vadis— Slabs  with 
Footprints  in  Kircherian  Museum— St.  Christina's  Footprints  at 
Bolsena— Significance  of  Footmarks— Votive  Offerings— Footprint 
of  Mahomet  at  Jerusalem— Footprint  of  Christ  on  Mount  of 
Olives— Footprints  of  Abraham  at  Mecca— Drusic  Footprints— 
Phrabat,  or  Sacred  Foot  of  Buddha— Famous  Footprint  on  Sum- 
mit of  Adam's  Peak  in  Ceylon— Footprints  at  Gayd— Footprints 
of  Vishnu— Jain  Temples— Prehistoric  Footprints— Tanist  Stones 
—Dun  Add  in  Argyleshire— Mary's  Step  in  Wales— Footmarks  in 
Ireland,  Norway.  Denmark,  and  Brittany— Classical  Examples- 
Footprints  in  America  and  Africa  — Connection  with  Primitive 
Worship 109-136 

CHAPTER    V 

THE    ROMAN    FORUM 

Geological  History— Volcanic  Origin— Eariy  Legends— Cloaca  Maxima 
—Work  of  Excavation— ^rarium—  Capitol— Temple  of  Concord- 
Temple  of  Jupiter— Arch  of  Septimius  Severus— Milliarium  Aureum 
— Mamertine  Prison  — Pillar  of  Phocas  —  Suovetaurilia  —  Curia 
Hostilia—Comitium— Curia  of  Diocletian— Basilica  Julia— Vicus 
Tuscus— Temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux— Atrium  Vestae— Temple 
of  Vesta— Temple  of  Antoninus  Pius  and  Faustina— Church  of 
SS   Cosma  e  Damiano— Colosseum— Conflagration  in  Forum 

137-178 


CONTENTS  xiii 

CHAPTER    VI 

THE    EGYPTIAN    OBELISKS 

Number  of  Obelisks  in  Rome— Sun  Worship— Symbolism  of  Obelisk- 
Obelisk  of  Nebuchadnezzar— Original  position  of  Obelisks — 
Egyptian  Propylons— Changes  connected  with  Obelisks  in  Egypt- 
Transportation  of  Obelisks  to  Rome  and  other  places— Obelisk  of 
Heliopohs  —  Obelisk  of  Luxor  —  Kamac  —  Lateran  Obelisk  — 
Obelisk  in  Square  of  St.  Peter's— Obelisk  of  Piazza  del  Popolo— 
Association  of  Fountains  with  Obelisks— Obelisk  of  Monte  Citorio 
— Esquiline  and  Quirinal  Obelisks— Obelisk  of  Trinita  dei  Monti 
— Pamphilian  Obelisk— Obelisks  near  Pantheon — Superiority  of 
Oldest  Obelisks— Obelisk  of  Paris— Cleopatra's  Needles  in  London 
and  New  York — Religious  Devotion  of  Ancient  Egyptians 

Pages  179-21 1 


CHAPTER    VII 
THE    PAINTED    TOMB    AT    VEII 

Excursions  in  neighbourhood  of  Rome — History  of  Veii — Uncertainty 
of  its  Site — Journey  to  Isola  Farnese — Village  of  Isola — Romantic 
Scenery — Desolate  Downs — Roman  Municipium — Old  Gateway — 
PonteSodo — Necropolis  of  Veii — Painted  Tomb — Archaic  Frescoes 
— Objects  in  Inner  Chamber — Etruscan  Tombs  imitative  of  Homes 
of  the  Living— Worship  of  the  Dead— Cellas  Memoriae— Antiquity 
of  Tomb  at  Veii — Mysterious  character  of  Etruscan  Language 
and  History v        212-236 


CHAPTER    VIII 
HOLED   STONES   AND   MARTYR   WEIGHTS 

Bocca  della  Verita — Primitive  W^orship  of  Clefts  in  Rocks  and  Holes 
in  Stones— Cromlechs— Passing  through  beneath  Cromlechs  and 
Gates— Tigillum  Sororium— Pillars  in  Aksa  Mosque  at  Jerusalem 
— "Threading  the  Needle  "  in  Ripon  Cathedral — Standing  Stones 
of  Stennis  and  Oath  of  Odin— Cremave— Jewish  Covenant — Martyr 
Stones— Originally  Roman  Measures  of  Weight— Made  of  Jade  or 
Nephrite — Remarkable  History  of  Jade — Prehistoric  Glimpses — 
Relics  of  Stone  Age  in  Rome — Conservation  of  things  connected 
with  Religion 237-252 


XIV 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    IX 
ST.    ONOFRIO    AND   TASSO 

Church  of  St.  Onofrio — Monastery — Garden — Tasso's  Oak — Grand 
View  of  Rome  and  Neighbourhood — Tasso's  Birthplace  at  Sorrento 
— Remarkable  Epoch — Bernardo  Tasso — Prince  of  Salerno — Youth 
of  Tasso — Visit  to  Rome — Sojourn  at  Venice — Student  of  Law  at 
Padua — First  Poem  Rinaldo — University  of  Bologna — House  of 
Este — Leonora — Composition  of  Gerusalenime  Libcrata — Death 
of  Tasso's  Father — Visit  to  France — Aininta  and  Pastoral  Drama 
— Publication  of  Gerusalemme  Liberata — Delia  Cruscan  Academy 
— Ariosto — Cold  Treatment  of  Tasso  by  Alfonso — Confinement 
in  Hospital  of  St.  Anne — Story  of  Hapless  Love — Alleged  Mad- 
ness— Hospital  of  St.  Anne —  Torrismondo — Release  of  Tasso — 
Pilgrimage  to  Loretto — Residence  at  Naples — Connection  with 
Milton — GerusalcviDie  Conquistata  —  Universal  Recognition  of 
Poet — Better  Days — Closing  Scenes  of  Life  at  St.  Onofrio — Pro- 
posed Coronation  at  Capitol — Too  Late — Death — Estimate  of  Life 
and  Work Pages  253-310 


CHAPTER    X 


THE    MARBLES    OF    ANCIENT    ROME 

Pleasures  of  Marble  Hunting  in  Rome  and  Neighbourhood — Artistic 
and  Educational  Uses  of  Marble  Fragments — Geological  Formation 
of  Rome — Building  Materials  of  Ancient  Rome — Marbles  of  Con- 
quered Countries  introduced  into  Rome — Christian  Churches  made 
up  of  Remains  of  Pagan  Temples — Parian  Marble — Porine  and 
Pentelic  Marbles  —  Hymettian  Marble — Thasian,  Lesbian  and 
Tyrian  Marbles — Marble  of  Carrara — Apollo  Belvedere — Colouring 
of  Ancient  Statues  and  Buildings — Gibson's  Colour-creed — Time's 
Hues  on  Dying  Gladiator — Cipollino — Giallo  Antico — Africano — 
Porta  Santa — Fior  di  Persico  —  Pavonazzetto  —  Rosso  Antico — 
Sedia  Forata  —  Faun  —  Black  Marbles — Lumachella  Marbles  — 
Column  of  Trajan — Breccias — Alabasters — Verde  Antique — Sub- 
terranean Church  of  San  Clemente — Ophiteand  Opus  Alexandrinum 
— Jaspers — Murrhine  Cups — Lapis  Lazuli  —  Church  of  Jesuits  — 
Abundance  of  Marbles  in  Ancient  Rome  .  .  3ii-3S9 


CONTENTS 


XV 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE    VATICAN    CODEX 

Vatican  Library — Origin  and  History — Monastery  of  Bobbio — Splen- 
dour and  Charm  of  Library — Contents  of  two  Principal  Cabinets 
— Letters  of  Henry  VHI.  and  Anne  Boleyn — Vatican  Codex — 
Freshness  of  Appearance — Continuity  of  Writing — Vacant  Space 
at  end  of  St.  Mark's  Gospel — A  Palimpsest — Origin  of  Vatican 
Codex — Sinaitic  and  Alexandrine  Codices — History  of  Vatican 
Codex— Edition  of  Cardinal  Mai — Edition  of  Tischendorf — Dis- 
appearance of  all  Previous  Manuscripts — Faults  and  Deficiences 
of  Vatican  Codex — Vatican  Codex  used  in  Revised  Version  of  New 
Testament — Formation  of  Sacred  Canon        .  Pages  360-379 


CHAPTER    XII 


ST.    PAUL   AT    PUTEOLI 

Landing  of  St.  Paul  in  Ship  Castor  and  Pollux  at  Puteoli — Loveliness 
of  Bay  of  Naples — Crowded  Population  and  Splendour  of  Villas 
— Dissoluteness  of  Inhabitants — Worship  of  Roman  Emperors — 
St.  Paul's  Grief  and  Anxiety — Encouragement  from  Brethren — 
Christians  in  Tyrian  Quarter  at  Puteoli  and  at  Pompeii — Southern 
Italy  Greek  in  Blood  and  Language — Quay  at  Puteoli — Temples 
of  Neptune  and  Serapis — Changes  of  Level  in  Sea  and  Land — 
Monte  Nuovo — Destmction  of  Village  of  Tripergola — Filling  up 
of  Leucrine  Lake — Lake  of  Avemus — Sibyl's  Cave — Lough  Dearg 
and  Purgatory  of  St.  Patrick — Death  Quarter  among  Prehistoric 
People  in  the  West — Phlegraean  Fields — Scene  of  Wars  of  Gods 
and  Giants  —  Elysian  Fields  —  Pagan  Heaven  and  Hell — Via 
Cumana  and  St.  Paul — Amphitheatre  of  Nero — Solfatara — Relics 
of  Volcanic  Fires  and  Ancient  Civilisation  mixed  together — Vol- 
canic Fires  and  Landscape  Beauty — Completion  of  Gospel  in  St. 
Paul's  Journey  from  Jerusalem  to  Rome    ,         .         ,         380-397 


CHAPTER  I 


A    WALK    TO    CHURCH    IN    ROME 


I    KNOW   nothing   more    delightful    than    a   walk   to   a 
country  church  on  a  fine  day  at  the  end  of  summer. 
All  the  lovely  promises  of  spring  have  been  fulfilled ; 
the  woods  are  clothed  with   their  darkest  foliage,  and 
not  another  leaflet  is  to  come  anywhere.     The  lingering 
plumes    of   the   meadow-sweet   in   the    fields,   and    the 
golden  trumpets  of  the  wild  honeysuckle  in  the  hedges, 
make  the  warm  air  a  luxury  to  breathe  ;  and  the  presence 
of  a  few  tufts  of  bluebells  by  the  wayside  gives  the 
landscape  the  last  finishing  touch  of  perfection,  which  is 
suggestive   of   decay,    and    has    such    an    indescribable 
pathos  about   it.     Nature   pauses   to  admire    her  own 
handiwork  ;  she  ceases  from  her  labours,  and  enjoys  an 
interval  of  rest.     It  is  the  sabbath  of  the  year.     At  such 
a  time  every  object  is  associated  with  its  spiritual  idea, 
as  it  is  with  its  natural  shadow.     The  beauty  of  nature 
suggests  thoughts  of  the  beauty  of  holiness;  and  the 
calm  rest  of  creation  speaks  to  us  of  the  deeper  rest  of 
the  soul  in  God.     On  the  shadowed  path  that  leads  up 
to  the  house  of  prayer,  with  mind  and  senses  quickened 
to  perceive  the  loveliness  and  significance  of  the  smallest 
object,  the  fern  on  the  bank  and  the  lichen  on  the  wall, 
we  feel  indeed  that  heaven  is  not  so  much  a  yonder, 
towards  which  we  are  to  move,  as  a  here  and  a  now, 
which  we  are  to  realise. 


& 


B 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


A  walk  to  church  in  town  is  a  different  thing.     Man's 
works  are  all  around  us,  and  God's  excluded ;  all  but 
the  strip  of  blue  sky  that  looks  down  between  the  tall 
houses,  and  suggests  thoughts  of  heaven  to  those  who 
work  and  weep  ;  all  but  the  stunted  trees  and  the  green 
grass   that   struggle    to   grow   in   the   hard    streets    and 
squares,  and  whisper  of  the  far-off  scenes  of  the  country, 
where  life  is  natural  and  simple.      But  even  in  town  a 
walk  to  church  is  pleasant,  especially  when  the  streets 
are  quiet,  before  the  crowd  of  worshippers  have  begun 
to    assemble,    and    there    is    nothing    to    distract    the 
thoughts.     If  we  can  say  of  the  country  walk,  "This  is 
holy'  ground,"   seeing    that    every   bush    and    tree    are 
aflame  with  God,  we  can  say  of  the  walk  through  the 
city,  "Surely  the  Lord  hath  been  here,  this  is  a  dread- 
ful  place."     And   as   the  rude   rough  stones   lying   on 
the  mountain  top  shaped  themselves  in  the  patriarch's 
dream  into  a  staircase  leading  up  to  God,  so  the  streets 
and   houses  around  become  to  the  musing   spirit  sug- 
gestive of  the  Father's  many  mansions,  and  the  glories 
of  the  City  whose  streets  are  of  pure  gold,  in  which 
man's  hopes  and  aspirations  after  a  city  of  rest,  which 
are  baffled  here,  will  be  realised.     I  have  many  pleasing 
associations   connected  with  walks  to  church  in  town. 
Many  precious  thoughts  have  come  to  me  then,  which 
would  not  have  occurred  at  other  times ;  glimpses  of  the 
wonder  of  life,  and  revelations  of  inscrutable  mysteries 
covered  by  the  dream-woven  tissue  of  this  visible  world. 
The  subjects  with  which  my  mind  was  filled  found  new 
illustrations  in  the  most  unexpected  quarters  ;  and  every 
familiar  sight  and  sound  furnished  the  most  appropriate 
examples.       During  that   half- hour  of  meditation,   with 
my   blood   quickened    by  the    exercise,   and   my   mind 
inspired  by  the  thoughts  of  the  service  in  which  I  was 
about  to   engage,    I    have    lived   an    intenser   life   and 
enjoyed  a  keener  happiness  than  during  all  the  rest  of 
the  week.      It  was  the  hour  of  insight  that  struck  the 
keynote  of  all  the  others. 


I  A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME  3 

But  far  above  even  these  precious  memories,  I  must 
rank  my  walks  to  church  in  Rome.      What  one  feels 
elsewhere  is  deepened  there ;  and  the  wonderful  associa- 
tions of  the  place  give  a  more  vivid  interest  to  all  one's 
experiences.     I  lived  in  the  Capo  le  Case,  a  steep  street 
on  the  slope  between  the  Pincian  and   Quirinal  hills, 
situated  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  church 
outside  the  Porta  del  Popolo.     This  distance  I  had  to 
traverse  every  Sunday  morning;  and  I  love  frequently 
to  shut  my  eyes  and  picture  the  streets  through  which 
I  passed,  and  the  old  well-known  look  of  the  houses  and 
monuments.     There  is  not  a  more  delightful  walk  in  the 
world  than  that ;  and  I  know  not  where  within  such  a 
narrow  compass  could  be  found  so  many  objects  of  the 
most  thrilling  interest.     For  three  months,  from  the  be- 
ginning of  February  to  the  end  of  April,  twice,  and  some- 
times four  times,  every  Sunday,  I  passed  that  way,  going 
to  or  returning  from  church,  until  I  became  perfectly 
familiar  with  every  object ;  and  associations  of  my  own 
moods  of  mind  and  heart  mingled  with  the  grander  asso- 
ciations which  every  stone  recalled,  and  are  now  inextri- 
cably bound  up  with  them.     With  one  solitary  exception, 
when  the  \veather  in  its  chill  winds  and  gloomy  clouds 
reminded  me  of  my  native  climate,  all  the  Sundays  were 
beautiful,  the  sun  shining  down  with  genial  warmth,  and 
the  sky  overhead  exhibiting  the  deep  violet  hue  which 
belongs   especially  to   Italy.      The   house   in   which    I 
lived    had    on    either   side  of  the  entrance  a  picture- 
shop  ;  and  this  was  always  closed,  as  well  as  most  of 
the    other   places   of   business   along  the   route.      The 
streets  were  remarkably  quiet ;  and  all  the  circumstances 
were  most  favourable  for  a  meditative  walk  amid  such 
magnificent  memories.     The  inhabitants  of  Rome  pay 
respect  to  the  Sunday  so  far  as  abstaining  from  labour 
is  concerned ;  but  they  make  up  for  this  by  throwing 
open  their  museums  and  places  of  interest  on  that  day, 
which  indeed  is  the  only  day  in  which  they  are  free  to 
the  public ;  and  they  take  a  large  amount  of  recreation 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


for  doing  a  small  amount  of  penance  in  the  interests  of 
religion.  Still  there  is  very  little  bustle  or  traffic  in  the 
streets,  especially  in  the  morning ;  and  one  meets  with 
no  more  disagreeable  and  incongruous  interruptions  on  the 
way  to  church  in  the  Eternal  City  than  he  does  at  home. 
At  the  head  of  the  Capo  le  Case  is  a  small  church, 
beside  an  old  ruinous-looking  wall  of  tufa,  covered  with 
shaggy  pellitory  and  other  plants,  which  might  well 
have  been  one  of  the  ramparts  of  ancient  Rome.  It  is 
called  San  Guiseppe,  and  has  a  faded  fresco  painting  on 
the  gable,  representing  the  Flight  of  the  Holy  Family 
into  Egypt,  supposed  to  be  by  Frederico  Zuccari,  whose 
own  house — similarly  decorated  on  the  outside  with 
frescoes — was  in  the  immediate  vicinity.  From  the 
windows  of  my  rooms,  I  could  see  at  the  foot  of  the 
street  the  fantastic  cupola  and  bell-turret  of  the  church 
of  St.  Andrea  delle  Fratte,  which  belonged  to  the 
Scottish  Catholics  before  the  Reformation,  and  is  now 
frequented  by  our  Catholic  countrymen  during  Lent, 
when  sermons  are  preached  to  them  in  English.  It  is 
the  parish  church  of  the  Piazza  di  Spagna,  and  the  so- 
called  English  quarter.  The  present  edifice  was  only 
built  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and,  strange 
to  say,  with  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  Cardinal  Gon- 
salvi's  valuable  collection  of  snuff-boxes ;  but  its  name, 
derived  from  the  Italian  word  Fratta^  "thorn-bush," 
would  seem  to  imply  that  the  church  is  of  much  greater 
antiquity,  going  back  to  a  far-oft  time  when  the  ground 
on  which  it  stands  was  an  uncultivated  waste.  A 
miracle  is  said  to  have  happened  in  one  of  the  side 
chapels  in  1842,  which  received  the  sanction  of  the 
Pope.  A  young  French  Jew  of  the  name  of  Alfonse 
Ratisbonne  was  discovered  in  an  ecstasy  before  the 
altar ;  wliich  he  accounted  for  by  saying,  when  he 
revived,  that  the  Virgin  Mary  had  actually  appeared  to 
him,  and  saluted  him  in  this  place,  while  he  was  wan- 
dering aimlessly,  and  with  a  smile  of  incredulity,  through 
the  church.     This  supernatural  vision  led  to  his  conver- 


I  A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME  5 

sion,  and  he  was  publicly  baptized  and  presented  to  the 
Pope  by  his  godfather,  the  general  of  the  Jesuits  ;  receiv- 
ing on  the  occasion,  in  commemoration  of  the  miracle,  a 
crucifix,  to  which  special  indulgences  were  attached. 

At  the  foot  of  the  Capo  le  Case  is  the  College  of  the 
Propaganda,  whose  vast  size  and  plain  massive  archi- 
tecture, as  well  as  its  historical  associations,  powerfully 
impress  the  imagination.      It  was  begun  by  Gregory 
XV.,  in   1622,  and  completed  by  his  successor.  Urban 
VIII.,  and  his  brother,  Cardinal  Antonio  Barberini,  from 
the  plans   partly   of  Bernini  and   Borromini.     On  the 
most  prominent  parts  of  the  edifice  are  sculptured  bees, 
which    are    the    well-known    armorial   bearings    of  the 
Barberini  family.      The  Propaganda  used  to  divide  with 
the   Vatican   the   administration   of  the   whole   Roman 
Catholic  world.      It  was  compared  by  the  Abbe  Raynal 
to  a  sword,  of  which  the  handle  remains  in  Rome,  and 
the  point  reaches  everywhere.     The  Vatican  takes  cognis- 
ance of  what  may  be  called  the  domestic  affairs  of  the 
Church  throughout  Europe ;  the  College  of  the  Propa- 
ganda superintends  the  foreign  policy  of  the  Church, 
and  makes  its  influence  felt  in  the  remotest  regions  of 
the  earth.     It    is    essentially,   as    its    name   implies,   a 
missionary  institution,  founded  for  the  promotion  and 
guidance   of  missions   throughout  the   world.       Nearly 
two  hundred  youths   from    various  countries   are   con- 
stantly educated  here,  in  order  that  they  may  go  back 
as  ordained  priests  to  their  native  land,  and  diffuse  the 
Roman  Catholic  faith  among  their  countrymen.     The 
average  number  ordained  every  year  is  about  fifty.     No 
one  is  admitted  who  is  over  twenty  years  of  age ;  and 
they  all  wear  a  uniform  dress,  consisting  of  a   long 
black  cassock,  edged  with  red,  and  bound  with  a  red 
girdle,    with    two    bands,    representing   leading-strings, 
hanging  from  the  shoulders  behind.     The  cost  of  their 
education  and  support  while  in  Rome,  and  the  expenses 
of  their  journey  from  their  native  land  and  back  again, 
are  defrayed  by  the  institution.      Every  visitor  to  Rome 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


f 


must  be  familiar  with  the  appearance  of  the  students,  as 
they  walk  through  the  streets  in  groups  of  three  or  four, 
eagerly  conversing  with  each  other,  with  many  expressive 
gesticulations.      For  the  most  part  they  are  a  fine  set  of 
young  men,  of  whom  any  Church  might  well  be  proud, 
full  of  zeal  and  energy,  and  well  fitted  to  encounter,  by 
their  physical  as  well  as  their  mental  training,  the  hard- 
ships of  an  isolated  life,  frequently  among  savage  races. 
An  annual  exhibition  is  held  in  a  large  hall  attached 
to  the  college  in  honour  of  the  holy  Magi,  about  the 
beginning  of  January,  when  students  deliver  speeches  in 
different  languages,  and  take  part  in  musical  perform- 
ances, the  score  of  which  is  usually  composed  by  the 
professor  of  music  in  the  college.     The  places  of  honour 
nearest  the   stage  are  occupied    by    several    cardmals, 
whose  scarlet  dresses  and  silver  locks  contrast  strikingly 
with  the  black  garments  of  the  majority  of  the  assem- 
blage.    The  strange  costumes  and  countenances  of  the 
speakers,  coloured  with  every  hue  known  to  the  human 
family,  the  novel  sounds  of  the  different  languages,  and 
the  personal  peculiarities  of  each  speaker  in  manner  and 
intonation,  make  the  exhibition   in  the  highest  degree 
interesting.       Its    great    popularity    is    evinced    by    the 
crowds  that  usually  attend,  filling  the  hall  to  overflowing; 
and  though  a  religious  affair,  it  is  pervaded  by  a  lively 
spirit  of  fun,  in  which  even  the  great  dignitaries  of  the 
Church  join  heartily. 

The  jurisdiction  of  the  Propaganda  is  independent. 
The  "congregation"  of  the  college  is  composed  of 
twenty-five  cardinals,  sixteen  of  whom  are  resident  in 
Rome.  One  of  their  number  is  appointed  prefect,  and 
has  a  prelate  for  his  secretary.  They  meet  statedly, 
once  a  month,  for  the  transaction  of  business,  in  a 
magnificent  hall  in  the  college.  Previous  to  185 1,  the 
affairs  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  England  were 
administered  by  the  Propaganda;  our  country  being 
included  among  heretical  or  heathen  lands  to  which 
missionaries  were  sent.     But  after  that  memorable  year 


I  A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME  7 

they  were  transferred  to  the  ordinary  jurisdiction  of  the 
See  of  Rome.  This  movement  was  the  first  distinct  act 
of  papal  aggression,  and  provoked  fierce  hostility  among 
all  classes  of  the  Protestant  community.  However 
some  of  us  may  regret  that  such  powerful  and  well- 
organised  machinery  is  employed  to  propagate  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth  a  faith  to  which  we  cannot  subscribe, 
yet  no  one  can  read  the  proud  inscription  upon  the 
front  of  the  edifice,  "  Collegio  di  Propaganda  Fide," 
and  reflect  upon  the  grand  way  in  which  the  purpose 
therein  defined  has  been  carried  out,  without  a  senti- 
ment of  admiration.  At  a  time  when  Protestant  Churches 
were  selfishly  devoted  to  their  own  narrow  interests,  and 
utterly  unmindful  of  the  Saviour's  commission  to  preach 
the  gospel  to  every  creature,  this  college  was  sending 
forth  to  different  countries,  only  partially  explored,  bands 
of  young  priests  who  carried  their  lives  in  their  hands, 
and  endured  untold  sufferings  so  that  they  might  impart 
to  the  heathen  the  blessings  of  Christian  civilisation. 
There  is  not  a  region  from  China  and  Japan  to  Mexico 
and  the  South  Sea  Islands,  and  from  Africa  to  Siberia, 
which  has  not  been  taken  possession  of  by  members  of 
this  college,  and  cultivated  for  the  Church.  Names  that 
are  as  worthy  of  being  canonised  as  those  of  any  saint  in 
the  Roman  calendar,  on  account  of  their  heroic  achieve- 
ments, their  holy  lives,  or  their  martyr  deaths,  belong  to 
the  role  of  the  Propaganda.  And  while  sedulously 
spreading  their  faith,  they  were  at  the  same  time  adding 
to  the  sum  of  human  knowledge ;  many  of  the  most 
valuable  and  important  contributions  to  ethnology,  geo- 
graphy, philology,  and  natural  science  having  been  made 
by  the  students  of  this  college.  Pope  Pius  IX.  in  his 
early  days,  after  he  had  renounced  his  military  career 
and  become  a  priest,  was  sent  out  by  the  Propaganda, 
as  secretary  to  a  politico-religious  mission  which  Pius 
VII.  organised  and  despatched  to  Chili ;  and  in  that 
country  his  missionary  career  of  two  years  exhibited  all 
the  devotion  of  a  saint. 


8 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


I  had  the  pleasure  of  going  through  the  various 
rooms  of  this  famous  institution  in  the  appropriate 
company  of  one  of  the  most  distinguished  Free  Church 
missionaries  in  India ;  and  was  shown  by  the  rector  of 
the  college,  with  the  utmost  courtesy  and  kindness,  all 
that  was  most  remarkable  about  the  place.  The  library 
is  extensive,  and  contains  some  rare  works  on  theology 
and  canon  law ;  and  in  the  Borgian  Museum  annexed 
to  it  there  is  a  rich  collection  of  Oriental  MSS.,  heathen 
idols,  and  natural  curiosities  sent  by  missionaries  from 
various  parts  of  the  world.  We  were  especially  struck 
with  the  magnificent  "  Codex  Mexicanus,"  a  loosely- 
bound,  bulky  MS.  on  white  leather,  found  among  the 
treasures  of  the  royal  palace  at  the  conquest  of  Mexico 
by  Cortes.  It  is  full  of  coloured  hieroglyphics  and 
pictures,  and  is  known  in  this  country  through  the 
splendid  reproduction  of  Lord  Kingsborough. 

But  the  most  interesting  of  all  the  sights  to  the 
visitor  is  the  printing  establishment,  which  at  one  time 
was  the  first  in  the  world,  and  had  the  means  of  publish- 
ing books  in  upwards  of  thirty  different  languages.  At 
the  present  day  it  is  furnished  with  all  the  recent  appli- 
ances ;  and  from  this  press  has  issued  works  distinguished 
as  much  for  their  typographical  beauty  as  for  the  area 
they  cover  in  the  mission  field.  Its  font  of  Oriental 
types  is  specially  rich.  We  were  shown  specimens  of 
the  Paternoster  in  all  the  known  languages;  and  my 
friend  had  an  opportunity  of  inspecting  some  theological 
works  in  the  obscure  dialects  of  India.  The  productions 
of  the  Propaganda  press  are  very  widely  diffused.  There 
is  a  bookseller's  shop  connected  with  the  establishment, 
where  all  the  publications  of  the  institution,  including 
the  papal  bulls,  and  the  principal  documents  of  the  State, 
may  be  procured.  Altogether  the  college  has  taken  a 
prominent  part  in  the  education  of  the  world.  Its 
influence  is  specially  felt  in  America,  from  which  a  large 
number  of  its  students  come  ;  the  young  priest  who  con- 
ducted us  through  the  library  and  the  Borgian  Museum 


^ 


I  A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME  9 

being  an  American,  very  intelligent  and  affable.  The 
Roman  Catholic  religion  flourishes  in  that  country 
because  it  keeps  clear  of  all  political  questions,  and 
manifests  itself,  not  as  a  government,  in  which  character 
it  is  peculiarly  uncompromising  and  despotic,  but  as  a 
religion,  in  which  aspect  it  has  a  wonderful  power  of 
adaptation  to  the  habits  and  tastes  of  the  people.  The 
Propaganda  rules  Roman  Catholic  America  very  much 
in  the  spirit  of  its  own  institutions  ;  and  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  social  phenomena  of  that  country  is  the 
absolute  subserviency  which  the  political  spirit  of  un- 
bridled democracy  yields  to  its  decrees.  The  bees  of 
the  Barberini  carved  upon  its  architectural  ornaments 
are  no  inapt  symbol  of  the  spirit  and  method  of  working 
of  this  busy  theological  hive,  which  sends  its  annual 
swarms  all  over  the  world  to  gather  ecclesiastical  honey 
from  every  flower  of  opportunity. 

Passing  beyond  the  Propaganda,  we  come  to  a  lofty 
pillar  of  the  Corinthian  order,  situated  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  Piazza  di  Spagna.  It  is  composed  of  a  kind 
of  gray  Carystian  marble  called  cipollino^  distinguished 
by  veins  of  pale  green  rippling  through  it,  like  the  layers 
of  a  vegetable  bulb,  on  account  of  which  it  is  popularly 
known  as  the  onion  stone.  It  is  one  of  the  largest 
known  monoliths,  being  forty-tw^o  feet  in  height  and 
nearly  five  feet  in  diameter.  It  looks  as  fresh  as  though 
it  were  only  yesterday  carved  out  of  the  quarry ;  but  it 
must  be  nearly  two  thousand  years  old,  having  been 
found  about  a  hundred  years  ago  when  digging  among 
the  ruins  of  the  ampitheatre  of  Statilius  Taurus,  con- 
structed in  the  reign  of  Caesar  Augustus  on  the  site  now 
called,  from  a  corruption  of  the  old  name,  Monte  Citorio, 
and  occupied  by  the  Houses  of  Parliament.  When 
discovered  the  pillar  was  unfinished,  a  circumstance 
which  would  indicate  that  it  had  never  been  erected.  It 
was  left  to  Pope  Pius  IX.,  after  all  these  centuries  of 
neglect  and  obscurity,  to  find  a  use  for  it.  Crowning 
its  capital  by  a  bronze  statue  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and 


\ 


:o 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


disfiguring  its  shaft  by  a  fantastic  bronze  network  extend- 
ing up  two-fifths  of  its  height,  he  erected  it  where  it  now 
stands  in  1854,10  commemorate  the  establishment  by 
papal  bull  of  the  dogma  of  the  Immaculate  Conception. 
It  was  during  his  exile  at  Gaeta,  at  a  time  when  Italy 
was  torn  with  civil  dissensions,  and  his  own  dominions 
were  afflicted  with  the  most  grievous  calamities,  which 
he  could  have  easily  averted  or  remedied  if  he  wished, 
that  this  dogma  engrossed  the  mind  of  the  holy  father 
and  his  ecclesiastical  court.      The  constitutionalists  at 
Rome  were  anxiously  expecting  some  conciliatory  mani- 
festo which  should  precede  the  Pope's  return  and  restore 
peace  and  prosperity ;   and  they  were  mortified  beyond 
measure  by  receiving  only  the  letter  in  which  this  theo- 
logical fiction  was  announced  by  his  Holiness.      The 
people  cried  for  the  bread  of  constitutional  liberty,  and 
the  holy  father  gave  them  the  stone  of  a  religious  dogma 
to  which  they  were  wholly  indifferent ;  thus  demonstrat- 
ing the  incompatibility  of  the  functions  of  a  temporal  and 

spiritual  sovereign. 

The  pillar  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  is  embellished 
by  statues  of  Moses,  David,  Isaiah,  and  Ezekiel,  with 
texts  from  Scripture,  and  very  inferior  bronze  bas-reliefs 
of  the  incidents  connected  with  the  publication  of  the 
dogma.      As  a  work  of  art,  it  is  heavy  and  graceless, 
with  hard  mechanical  lines  ;  and  the  figure  of  the  Virgin 
at  the  top  is  utterly  destitute  of  merit.     The  whole  monu- 
ment is  a  characteristic  specimen  of  the  modern  Roman 
school  of  sculpture.      For  ages   Rome  has  been  con- 
sidered the  foster  mother   of  art,  and   residence  in  it 
essential  to  the  education  of  the  art-faculty.     But  this 
is  a  delusion.      Its  atmosphere  has  never  been  really 
favourable  to  the  development  of  genius.     There  is  a 
moral  malaria  of  the  place  as  fatal  to  the  versatile  life  of 
the   imagination   as  the  physical   miasma  is  to  health. 
Roman   Catholicism    has   petrified   the   heart    and    the 
fancy;    and  a  petty  round  of  ceremonies,  feasts,  and 
social  parties  dissipates  energy  and  distracts  the  powers 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


II 


of  those  who  are  not  under  the  influence  of  the  Church. 
The  decadence  of  art  has  kept  pace  with  the  growing 
corruption  of  religion.  Descending  from  the  purer 
spiritual  conceptions  of  former  times  to  grosser  and  more 
superstitious  ideas,  it  has  given  outward  expression  to 
these  in  baser  forms.  Even  St.  Peter's,  though  ex- 
travagantly praised  by  so  many  visitors,  is  but  the  visible 
embodiment  of  the  vulgar  splendour  of  later  Catholicism. 
The  pillar  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  is  not  only 
a  monument  of  religious  superstition,  but  also  of  what 
must  strike  every  thoughtful  observer  in  Rome — the 
decadence  of  art  in  modern  times  as  compared  with 
the  glorious  earlier  days  of  a  purer  Church.  And  the 
art  of  the  sculptor  is  only  in  keeping  with  that  of  the 
painter  in  connection  with  this  dogma.  For  the  large 
frescoes  of  Podesti,  which  occupy  a  conspicuous  place 
in  the  great  hall  of  the  Vatican,  preceding  the  stanze 
of  Raphael,  and  depict  the  persons  and  incidents 
connected  with  the  proclamation  of  the  Immaculate 
Conception,  are  worthless  as  works  of  art,  and  present  a 
melancholy  contrast  to  the  works  of  the  immortal  genius 
in  the  adjoining  halls,  who  wrought  under  the  inspiration 
of  a  nobler  faith.  No  Titian  or  Raphael,  no  Michael 
Angelo  or  Bramante,  was  found  in  the  degenerate  days 
of  Pio  Nono  to  immortalise  what  he  called  the  greatest 
event  of  his  reign. 

The  square  in  which  the  pillar  of  the  Immaculate 
Conception  is  situated,  along  with  the  surrounding  streets, 
is  called  the  "  Ghetto  Inglese,"  for  here  the  English  and 
Americans  most  do  congregate.  At  almost  every  step 
one  encounters  the  fresh  open  countenances,  blue  eyes, 
and  fair  hair,  which  one  is  accustomed  to  associate  with 
darker  skies  and  ruder  buildings.  The  Piazza  di  Spagna, 
so  called  from  the  palace  of  the  Spanish  ambassador 
situated  in  a  corner  of  it,  is  one  of  the  finest  squares  of 
Rome,  being  paved  throughout,  and  surrounded  on  every 
side  by  lofty  and  picturesque  buildings.  In  the  centre 
is   a   quaint   old   boat-shaped   fountain,   called  Fontana 


\1 


lO 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


II 


disfiguring  its  shaft  by  a  fantastic  bronze  network  extend- 
ing up  two-fifths  of  its  height,  he  erected  it  where  it  now 
stands  in  1854,10  commemorate  the  establishment  by 
papal  bull  of  the  dogma  of  the  Immaculate  Conception. 
It  was  during  his  exile  at  Gaeta,  at  a  time  when  Italy 
was  torn  with  civil  dissensions,  and  his  own  dominions 
were  afflicted  with  the  most  grievous  calamities,  which 
he  could  have  easily  averted  or  remedied  if  he  wished, 
that  this  dogma  engrossed  the  mind  of  the  holy  father 
and  his  ecclesiastical  court.      The  constitutionalists  at 
Rome  were  anxiously  expecting  some  conciliatory  mani- 
festo which  should  precede  the  Pope's  return  and  restore 
peace  and  prosperity ;   and  they  were  mortified  beyond 
measure  by  receiving  only  the  letter  in  which  this  theo- 
logical fiction  was  announced  by  his  Holiness.      The 
people  cried  for  the  bread  of  constitutional  hberty,  and 
the  holy  father  gave  them  the  stone  of  a  religious  dogma 
to  which  they  were  wholly  indifferent ;  thus  demonstrat- 
ing the  incompatibility  of  the  functions  of  a  temporal  and 
spiritual  sovereign. 

The  pillar  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  is  embellished 
by  statues  of  Moses,  David,  Isaiah,  and  Ezekiel,  with 
texts  from  Scripture,  and  very  inferior  bronze  bas-reliefs 
of  the  incidents  connected  with  the  publication  of  the 
dogma.  As  a  work  of  art,  it  is  heavy  and  graceless, 
with  hard  mechanical  lines  ;  and  the  figure  of  the  Virgin 
at  the  top  is  utterly  destitute  of  merit.  The  whole  monu- 
ment is  a  characteristic  specimen  of  the  modern  Roman 
school  of  sculpture.  For  ages  Rome  has  been  con- 
sidered the  foster  mother  of  art,  and  residence  m  it 
essential  to  the  education  of  the  art-faculty.  But  this 
is  a  delusion.  Its  atmosphere  has  never  been  really 
favourable  to  the  development  of  genius.  There  is  a 
moral  malaria  of  the  place  as  fatal  to  the  versatile  life  of 
the  imagination  as  the  physical  miasma  is  to  health. 
Roman  Catholicism  has  petrified  the  heart  and  the 
fancy;  and  a  petty  round  of  ceremonies,  feasts,  and 
social 'parties  dissipates  energy  and  distracts  the  powers 


of  those  who  are  not  under  the  influence  of  the  Church. 
The  decadence  of  art  has  kept  pace  with  the  growing 
corruption  of  religion.  Descending  from  the  purer 
spiritual  conceptions  of  former  times  to  grosser  and  more 
superstitious  ideas,  it  has  given  outward  expression  to 
these  in  baser  forms.  Even  St.  Peter's,  though  ex- 
travagantly praised  by  so  many  visitors,  is  but  the  visible 
embodiment  of  the  vulgar  splendour  of  later  Catholicism. 
The  pillar  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  is  not  only 
a  monument  of  religious  superstition,  but  also  of  what 
must  strike  every  thoughtful  observer  in  Rome — the 
decadence  of  art  in  modern  times  as  compared  with 
the  glorious  earlier  days  of  a  purer  Church.  And  the 
art  of  the  sculptor  is  only  in  keeping  with  that  of  the 
painter  in  connection  with  this  dogma.  For  the  large 
frescoes  of  Podesti,  which  occupy  a  conspicuous  place 
in  the  great  hall  of  the  Vatican,  preceding  the  stanze 
of  Raphael,  and  depict  the  persons  and  incidents 
connected  with  the  proclamation  of  the  Immaculate 
Conception,  are  worthless  as  works  of  art,  and  present  a 
melancholy  contrast  to  the  works  of  the  immortal  genius 
in  the  adjoining  halls,  who  wrought  under  the  inspiration 
of  a  nobler  faith.  No  Titian  or  Raphael,  no  Michael 
Angelo  or  Bramante,  was  found  in  the  degenerate  days 
of  Pio  Nono  to  immortalise  what  he  called  the  greatest 
event  of  his  reign. 

The  square  in  which  the  pillar  of  the  Immaculate 
Conception  is  situated,  along  with  the  surrounding  streets, 
is  called  the  "  Ghetto  Inglese,"  for  here  the  English  and 
Americans  most  do  congregate.  At  almost  every  step 
one  encounters  the  fresh  open  countenances,  blue  eyes, 
and  fair  hair,  which  one  is  accustomed  to  associate  with 
darker  skies  and  ruder  buildings.  The  Piazza  di  Spagna, 
so  called  from  the  palace  of  the  Spanish  ambassador 
situated  in  a  corner  of  it,  is  one  of  the  finest  squares  of 
Rome,  being  paved  throughout,  and  surrounded  on  every 
side  by  lofty  and  picturesque  buildings.  In  the  centre 
is   a   quaint   old   boat-shaped   fountain,   called   Fontana 


12 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


13 


della  Barcaccia,  its  brown  slippery  sides  being  tinted  witii 
mosses,  confervje,  and  other  growths  of  wet  surfaces.      It 
was  designed  by  Bernini  to  commemorate  the  stranding 
of  a  boat  on  the  spot  after  the  retiring  of  the  great  flood 
of  1598,  which  overwhelmed  most  of  Rome.      On  the 
site  of  the  Piazza  di  Spagna,  there  was,  in  the  days  of 
Domitian,  an  artificial  lake,  on  which  naval  battles  took 
place,  witnessed  by  immense  audiences  seated  in  a  kind 
of  amphitheatre  on  the  borders  of  the  lake.      As  an 
object  of  taste  the  boat-shaped  fountain  is  condemned 
by  many ;  but  Bernini  adopted  the  form  not  only  because 
of  the  associations  of  the  spot,  but  also  because  the  head 
of  water  was  not  sufficient  for  a  jet  of  any  considerable 
height.      Quaint,  or  even  ugly,  as  some  might  call  it,  it 
was  to  me  an  object  of  peculiar  interest.     Its  water  is  of 
the  purest  and  sweetest ;  and  in  the  stillness  of  the  hot 
noon  its  bright  sparkle  and  dreamy  murmur  were  delight- 
fully refreshing.      No  city  in  the  world  is  so  abundantly 
supplied  with  water  as  Rome.      You  hear  the  lulling 
sound   and   see    the   bright  gleam   of  water  in   almost 
every   square.      A   river  falls   in   a  series   of  sparkling 
cascades  from  the  Fountain  of  Trevi  and  the  Fontana 
Paolina  into  deep,  immense  basins ;   and  even  into  the 
marble  sarcophagi  of  ancient  kings,  with  their  gracefully 
sculptured  sides,  telHng  some  story  of  Arcadian  times, 
w^hose    nymphs   and   naiads  are   in   beautiful   harmony 
with  the  rustic  murmur  of  the  stream,  is  falling  a  gush 
of  living  water  in  many  a  palace  courtyard.     This  sound 
of  many  waters  is,  indeed,  a  luxury  in  such  a  climate ; 
and  some  of  the  pleasantest  moments  are  those  in  w^hich 
the  visitor  lingers  beside  one  of  the  fountains,  when  the 
blaze  and  bustle  of  the  day  are  over,  and  the  balmy  soft- 
ness of  the  evening  produce  a  dreamy  mood,  to  which 
the  music  of  the  waters  is  irresistibly  fascinating. 

The  most  distinguishing  feature  of  the  Piazza  di 
Spagna  is  the  wide  staircase  which  leads  up  from 
one  side  of  it  to  the  church  of  the  Trinita  dei  Monti, 
with  its  twin  towers,  through   whose   belfry  arches  the 


*i 


r 


blue  sky  appears.  This  lofty  staircase  comprises  one 
hundred  and  thirty  steps,  and  the  ascent  is  so  gradual, 
and  the  landing-places  so  broad  and  commodious,  that 
it  is  quite  a  pleasure,  even  for  the  most  infirm  persons, 
to  mount  it.  The  travertine  of  which  it  is  composed  is 
polished  into  the  smoothness  of  marble  by  constant  use. 
It  is  the  favourite  haunt  of  all  the  painters'  models ;  and 
there  one  meets  at  certain  hours  of  the  day  with  beautiful 
peasant  girls  from  the  neighbouring  mountains,  in  the 
picturesque  costumes  of  the  contadini,  and  old  men  with 
grizzled  beards  and  locks,  dressed  in  ragged  cloaks,  the 
originals  of  many  a  saint  and  IMadonna  in  some  sacred 
pictures,  talking  and  laughing,  or  basking  with  half-shut 
eyes  in  the  full  glare  of  the  sun.  These  models  come 
usually  from  Cervaro  and  Saracinesco ;  the  latter  an 
extraordinary  Moorish  town  situated  at  a  great  height 
among  the  Sabine  hills,  whose  inhabitants  have  preserved 
intact  since  the  middle  ages  their  Arabic  names  and 
Oriental  features  and  customs. 

On  this  staircase  used  to  congregate  the  largest  number 
of  the  beggars  of  Rome,  whose  hideous  deformities  were 
made  the  excuse  for  extordng  money  from  the  soft- 
hearted forestieri.  Happily  this  plague  has  now  greatly 
abated,  and  one  may  ascend  or  descend  the  magnificent 
stair  without  being  revolted  by  the  sight  of  human  de- 
gradation, or  persecuted  by  the  importunate  outcries  of 
those  who  are  lost  to  shame.  The  Government  has  done 
a  good  thing  in  diminishing  this  frightful  mendicancy. 
But  it  is  to  be  feared  that  whilst  there  are  many  who  beg 
without  any  necessity,  sturdy  knaves  who  are  up  to  all 
kinds  of  petty  larceny,  there  are  not  a  few  who  have  no 
other  means  of  livelihood,  and  without  .the  alms  of  the 
charitable  would  die  of  starvation.  The  visitor  sees  only 
the  gay  side  of  such  a  place  as  Rome  ;  but  there  are 
many  tragedies  behind  the  scenes.  Centuries  of  misrule 
under  the  papal  government  had  pauperised  the  people ; 
and  the  sudden  transition  to  the  new  state  of  things  has 
deprived  many  of  the  old  employments,  without  furnish- 


%'* 


H 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


ing  any  substitutes,  while  there  is  no  longer  the  dole  at 
the  convent  door  to  provide  for  their  wants.  The  whole 
social  organisation  of  Italy,  w'ith  its  frequent  saints'  days, 
during  which  no  work  is  done,  and  its  numerous  holy 
fraternities  living  on  alms,  and  its  sanctification  of  mendi- 
cancy in  the  name  of  religion,  has  tended  to  pauperise 
the  nation,  and  give  it  those  unthrifty  improvident  habits 
which  have  destroyed  independence  and  self-respect. 
Although,  therefore,  the  Government  has  publicly  for- 
bidden begging  throughout  the  country,  it  has  in  some 
measure  tacitly  connived  at  it,  as  a  compromise  between 
an  inefficient  poor-law  and  the  widespread  misery  arising 
from  the  improvidence  of  so  many  of  its  subjects ;  the 
amount  of  the  harvest  reaped  by  the  beggars  from  the 
visitors  to  Rome  being  so  much  saved  to  the  public 
purse.  And  though  one  does  not  meet  so  many 
unscrupulous  beggars  as  formerly  in  the  main  thorough- 
fares of  Rome,  one  is  often  annoyed  by  them  on  the 
steps  of  the  churches,  where  they  seem  to  have  the  right 
of  sanctuary,  and  to  levy  toll  upon  all  for  whom  they 
needlessly  lift  the  heavy  leathern  curtain  that  hangs  at 
the  door.  We  must  remember  that  mendicancy  is  a 
very  ancient  institution  in  Italy,  and  that  it  will  die  hard, 
if  it  ever  dies  at  all. 

The  church  of  the  Trinita  dei  Monti,  built  in  1494  by 
Charles  VIII.  of  France,  occupies  a  most  commanding 
position  on  the  terrace  above  the  Spanish  Square,  and  is 
seen  as  a  most  conspicuous  feature  in  all  the  views  of 
Rome  from  the  neighbourhood.  An  Egyptian  obelisk 
with  hieroglyphics,  of  the  age  of  the  Ptolemies,  which 
once  adorned  the  so-called  circus  in  the  gardens  of  Sallust 
on  the  Quirinal,  now  elevated  on  a  lofty  pedestal, 
dedicated  to  the  Holy  Trinity,  and  surmounted  by  a 
cross,  stands  in  front  of  the  church,  and  gives  an  air  of 
antiquity  to  it  which  its  own  four  hundred  years  could 
hardly  impart,  as  well  as  forms  an  appropriate  termination 
to  the  splendid  flight  of  steps  which  leads  up  to  it.  The 
church  is  celebrated  for  the  possession  of  the  "  Descent 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


15 


from  the  Cross,"  a  fresco  by  Ricciarelli,  commonly  known 
by  the  name  of  Daniel  of  Volterra,  said  to  be  one  of  the 
three  finest  pictures  in  the  world.  But  the  chapel  which 
it  adorns  is  badly  lighted,  and  the  painting  has  been 
greatly  injured  by  the  French,  who  attempted  to  remove 
it  in  181 7.  It  does  not  produce  a  very  pleasing  impres- 
sion, being  dark  and  oily-looking;  and  the  cross-lights 
in  the  place  interfere  with  the  expression  of  the  figures. 
We  civn  recognise  much  of  the  force  and  graphic  power 
of  Michael  Angelo,  whom  the  painter  sedulously  imitated, 
in  various  parts  of  the  composition ;  but  it  seems  to  me 
greatly  inferior  as  a  whole  to  the  better-known  picture 
of  Rubens.  In  another  chapel  of  this  church  was 
interred  the  celebrated  painter  Claude  Lorraine,  who 
lived  for  many  years  in  a  house  not  far  off;  but  the 
French  transferred  the  remains  of  their  countryman  to 
the  monument  raised  to  him  in  their  native  church  in 
the  Via  della  Scrofa. 

Adjoining  the  church  is  the  convent  of  the  Sacred 
Heart,  which  formerly  belonged  to  French  monks,  minims 
of  the  order  of  St.  Francis.  It  suffered  severely  from 
the  wantonness  of  the  French  soldiers  who  were  quartered 
in  it  during  the  French  occupation  of  Rome  in  the  first 
Revolution.  Since  1827  the  Convent  has  been  in  pos- 
session of  French  nuns,  w  ho  are  all  ladies  of  rank.  They 
each  endow  the  Convent  at  their  initiation  with  a  dowry 
of  ;£iooo;  the  rest  of  their  property  going  to  their 
nearest  relatives  as  if  they  were  dead.  They  spend  their 
time  in  devotional  exercises,  in  superintending  the  educa- 
tion of  a  number  of  young  girls  in  the  higher  branches, 
and  in  giving  advice  to  those  who  are  allowed  to  visit 
them  for  this  purpose  every  afternoon.  The  Trinita  dei 
Monti  is  the  only  church  in  Rome  where  female  voices 
are  to  be  heard  chanting  the  religious  services ;  and  on 
account  of  this  peculiarity,  and  the  fresh  sweet  voices  of 
the  nuns  and  their  pupils,  many  people  flock  to  hear 
them  singing  the  Ave  Maria  at  sunset,  on  Sundays  and 
on  great  festivals,  the  singers  themselves  being  invisible 


i6 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


behind  a  curtain   in  the   organ   gallery.      Mendelssohn 
found   their  vespers   charming,   though   his   critical   ear 
detected  many  blemishes  in  the  playing  and  singing.     I 
visited  the  church  one  day.     As  it  is  shut  after  matins, 
I  was  admitted  at  a  side  door  by  one  of  the  nuns,  who 
previously  inspected  me  through  the  wicket,  and  was  left 
alone,  the  door  being  locked  behind  me.     The  interior 
is  severely  simple  and   grand,  preserving   the   original 
pointed  architecture  inclining  to  Gothic,  and  is  exquisitely 
clean  and  white,  as  women  alone  could  keep  it ;  in  this 
respect  forming  a  remarkable  contrast  to  the  grand  but 
dirty  church   of  the   Capuchin   monks.      I   had   ample 
leisure    to   study  the  very   interesting    pictures   in   the 
chapels.     The  solitude  was  only  disturbed  by  a  kneeling 
figure  in  black,  motionless  as  a  statue  behind  the  iron 
railing  in  front  of  the  high  altar,  or  by  the  occasional 
presence  of  a  nun,  who  moved  across  the  transept  with 
slow  and  measured  steps,  her  face  hid  by  a  long  white 
veil  which  gave  her  a  spirit- like   appearance.     In  the 
heart  of  one  of  the  busiest  parts  of  the  city,  no  mountain 
cloister  could  be  more  quiet  and  lonely.      One  felt  the 
soothing  stillness,  lifted  above  the  world,  while  yet  re- 
taining the  closest  connection  with  it.      It  is  sweet  to 
leave   the    busy  crowd   of  various    nationalities    below, 
intent   only  upon   pleasure,  and,  climbing  up  the  lofty 
staircase,  enter  this  secluded  shrine,  and  be  alone  with 

God. 

In  the  Piazza  di  Spagna  some  shops  are  always  open 
on  Sundays,  especially  those  which  minister  to  the  wants 
and  luxuries  of  strangers.  Rows  of  cabs  are  ranged  in 
the  centre,  waiting  to  be  hired,  and  groups  of  flower- 
sellers  stand  near  the  shops,  who  thrust  their  beautiful 
bouquets  almost  into  the  face  of  every  passer-by.  If 
Rome  is  celebrated  for  its  fountains,  it  is  equally  cele- 
brated for  its  flowers.  Whether  it  is  owing  to  the  soil, 
or  the  climate,  or  the  mode  of  cultivation,  or  all  com- 
bined, certain  it  is  that  nowhere  else  does  one  see  flowers 
of  such   brilliant   colours,  perfect   forms,  and   delicious 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


17 


fragrance ;  and  the  quantities  as  well  as  varieties  of  them 
are  perfectly  wonderful.    Delicate  pink  and  straw-coloured 
tea-roses,  camellias,  and  jonquils  mingled  their  high-born 
beauties  with  the  more  homely  charms  of  wild-flowers 
that  grew  under  the  shadow  of  the  great  solemn  stone- 
pines  on  the  heights  around,  or  twined  their  fresh  garlands 
over  the  sad  ruins  of  the  Campagna.     In  the  hand  of 
every  little  boy  and  girl  were  bunches  for  sale  of  wild 
cyclamens,  blue   anemones,  and   sweet-scented   violets, 
surrounded  by  their  own  leaves,  and  neatly  tied  up  with 
thread.     They  had  been  gathered  in  the  princely  grounds 
of  the  Doria  Pamphili  and  Borghese  villas  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Rome,  which  are  freely  opened  to  all,  and 
where  for  many  days  in  February  and  March  groups  of 
men,  women,  and  children  may  be  seen  gathering  vast 
quantities  of  those  first-born  children  of  the  sun.     The 
violets,  especially  in  these  grounds,  are  abundant   and 
luxuriant,  making  every  space  of  sw\ard  shadowed  by  the 
trees  purple  with  their  loveliness,  like  a  reflection  of  the 
violet  sky  that  had  broken  in  through  the  lattice-work  of 
boughs,  and  .scenting  all  the  air  with  their  delicious  per- 
fume.     They  brought   into   the   hot    hard    streets   the 
witchery  of  the  woodlands ;   and  no  one  could   inhale 
for  a  moment,  in  passing  by,  the  sweet  wafture  of  their 
fragrance  without   being   transported  in  imagination  to 
far-off  scenes  endeared  to  memory,  and  without  a  thrill 
of  nameless    tenderness  at  the    heart.      Some  of  the 
bunches  of  violets  I  was  asked  to  buy  were  of  a  much 
paler  purple  than  the  others,  and  I  was  at  no  loss  to 
explain  this  peculiarity.    The  plants  with  the  deep  violet 
petals  and  dark  crimson  eye  had  single  blossoms,  whereas 
those  whose  petals  were  lilac,  and  whose  eye  was  of  a 
paler  red  colour,  were  double.    Cultivation  had  increased 
the  number  of  petals,  but  it  had  diminished  the  richness 
of  the  colouring.     This  is  an  interesting  example  of  the 
impartial    balancing   of  nature.       No   object    possesses 
every  endowment.      Defect  in  one  direction  is  made  up 
by  excess  in  another.     The  rose   pays  for  its  mass  o( 


i8 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


beautiful  petals  by  its  sterility ;  and  the  single  violet  has 
a  lovelier  hue,  and  is  perfectly  fertile,  whereas  the  double 
one  is  pale  and  cannot  perpetuate  itself.  And  the  moral 
lesson  of  this  parable  of  nature  is  not  difficult  to  read. 
Leanness  of  soul  often  accompanies  the  fulfilment  of 
our  earthly  desires ;  and  outward  abundance  often  pro- 
duces selfishness  and  covetousness.  The  peculiar  evil 
of  prosperity  is  discontent,  dissatisfaction  with  present 
gain  and  a  longing  for  more,  and  a  spirit  of  repining  at 
the  little  ills  and  disappointments  of  life.  Humble, 
fragrant,  useful  contentment  belongs  to  the  soul  that  has 
the  single  eye,  and  "the  one  thing  needful;"  and  the 
more  we  seek  to  double  our  possessions  and  enjoyments 
in  the  spirit  of  selfishness,  the  less  beautiful  and  fragrant 
are  we  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man,  and  the  less  good 
we  do  in  the  world. 

From  the  Piazza  di  Spagna  I  passed  onward  through 
a  long  street  called  the  Via  Babuino,  from  an  antique 
statue  of  a  satyr  mutilated  into  the  likeness  of  a  baboon, 
that  used  to  adorn  a  fountain  about  the  middle  of  it,  now 
removed.  More  business  is  done  on  Sunday  in  this 
street  than  in  any  other  quarter,  with  the  exception  of 
the  Corso.  Here  a  shop  full  of  bright  and  beautiful 
flowers,  roses,  magnolias,  hyacinths,  and  lilies  of  the 
valley,  perfumed  all  the  air ;  there  a  jeweller's  shop  dis- 
played its  tempting  imitations  of  Etruscan  ornaments, 
and  beads  of  Roman  pearls,  coral,  lapis  lazuli,  and  mala- 
chite; while  yonder  a  marble-cutter  wrought  diligently 
at  his  laths,  converting  some  fragment  of  rare  marble — 
picked  up  by  a  tourist  among  the  ruins  of  ancient  Rome 
— into  a  cup  or  letter-weight  to  be  carried  home  as  a 
souvenir. 

The  Via  Babuino  opens  upon  the  Piazza  del  Popolo, 
the  finest  and  largest  square  in  Rome.  In  the  centre  is 
a  magnificent  Egyptian  obelisk  of  red  Syene  granite, 
about  eighty  feet  in  height,  carved  with  hieroglyphics, 
with  four  marble  Egyptian  lions  at  each  corner  of  the 
platform  upon  which  it  stands,  pouring  from  their  mouths 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


19 


copious  streams  of  water  into  large  basins,  with  a  refresh- 
ing sound.     Perhaps  the  eyes  of  Abraham  rested  upon 
this  obelisk  when   he  went  down  into  Egypt,  the  ifirst 
recorded  traveller  who  visited   the  valley  of  the  Nile ; 
and  the  familiarity  of  the  sight  to  the  Israelites  during 
their  bondage  in  the  neighbourhood  may  have  suggested 
the  wonderful  vision  of  the  pillar  of  cloud  by  day  and  of 
fire  by  night  which  regulated  their  wanderings  in  the 
wilderness.      God  does  not  paint  His  revelations  on  the 
empty  air,  but  weaves  them  into  the  web  of  history,  or 
pours  them  into  the  mould  of  common  earthly  objects 
and  ordinary  human  experiences.      Many  of  the  rites 
and  institutions  of  the  Mosaic  economy  were  borrowed 
from  those  of  the  Egyptian  priesthood ;    the  tabernacle 
and  its  furniture  were  composed  of  the  gold  and  jewels 
of  which  the  Israelites  had  spoiled  the  Egyptians  ;  and 
its  form,  a  tent  moved  from  place  to  place,  accommo- 
dated itself  to  the  wandering  camp-life  of  the  Israelites. 
It  is  not  unreasonable,  therefore,  to  suppose  that  He 
who  appeared  to  Moses  at  Horeb,  not  in  some  unknown 
supernatural    blaze   of   glory   altogether  detached    from 
earth,  but  in  the  common  fire  of  a  shepherd  in  the  com- 
mon dry  vegetation  of  the  desert,  and  who  made  use  of 
the  common  shepherd's  rod  which  Moses  carried  in  his 
hand  to  perform  the  wonderful  miracles  before  Pharaoh, 
would  also  make  use  of  the  obefisk  of  Heliopolis,  one 
of  the  most  familiar  objects  which  met  their  eye  during 
their  captivity,  as  the  pattern  of  the  Shechinah  cloud 
which  guided  His  people  in  their  journey  to  the  land  of 
Canaan.     The  symbol  of  the  sun  that  shone  upon  their 
weary  toil  as  slaves  in  the  clay-pits  beside  the  Nile,  now 
protected  and  illumined  them  in  their  march  as  freemen 
through  the  desert.      What  they  had  probably  joined 
their  oppressors  in  worshipping  as  an  idol,   they  now 
beheld  with  awe  and  reverence  as  the  token  of  the  over- 
shadowing and   overshining  presence  of  the  living  and 
true    God.      That   flame -shaped    obelisk  was   the   link 
between  Egypt  and  the  Holy  Land.     The  divine  effigy 


I 


20 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


21 


of  it  in  the  sky  of  the  desert — like  the  manna  as  the  Hnk 
between  the  corn  of  Egypt  and  the  corn  of  Canaan — 
marked  the  transition  from  the  false  to  the  true,  from 
the  old  world  of  dark  pagan  thought,  to  the  new  world 
of  religious  light.  I  need  not  say  with  what  profound 
interest  such  a  thought  invested  the  obelisk  in  the  Piazza 
del  Popolo.  I  was  never  weary  of  looking  up  at  its  fair 
proportions,  and  trying  to  decipher  its  strange  hierogly- 
phics— figures  of  birds  and  beasts  in  intaglio,  cut  cleai 
and  deep  into  the  hard  granite,  and  all  as  bright  in  colour 
and  carving  as  though  it  had  been  only  yesterday  cut 
out  of  the  quarry  instead  of  four  thousand  years  ago. 
It  was  my  first  glimpse  into  the  mysterious  East.  It 
made  the  wonderful  story  of  Joseph  and  Moses  not  a 
mere  narrative  in  a  book,  but  a  living  reality  standing 
out  from  the  far  past  like  a  view  in  a  stereoscope.  Every 
time  I  passed  it — and  I  did  so  at  all  hours — I  paused 
to  enter  into  this  reverie  of  the  olden  time.  The  day- 
light changed  it  into  a  pillar  of  cloud,  casting  the  shadow 
of  the  great  thoughts  connected  with  it  over  my  mind ; 
the  moonlight  shining  upon  its  rosy  hue  changed  it  into 
a  pillar  of  fire,  illumining  all  the  inner  chambers  of  my 
soul.  Every  Sunday  it  was  the  cynosure  guiding  me  on 
my  way  to  church,  and  suggesting  thoughts  and  memories 
in  unison  with  the  character  of  the  day  and  the  nature  of 
my  work.  No  other  object  in  Rome  remains  so  indelibly 
pictured  in  my  mind. 

From  the  Piazza  del  Popolo,  three  long  narrow  streets 
run,  like  three  fingers  from  the  palm  of  the  hand ;  the 
Via  Babuino,  which  leads  to  the  English  quarter;  the 
famous  Corso,  which  leads  to  the  Capitol  and  the 
Forum ;  and  the  Ripetta,  which  leads  to  St.  Peter's 
and  the  Vatican.  These  approaches  are  guarded  by 
two  churches,  S.  Maria  di  Monte  Santo  and  S.  Maria 
dei  Miracoli,  similar  in  appearance,  with  oval  domes  and 
tetrastyle  porticoes  that  look  like  ecclesiastical  porters' 
lodges.  The  name  of  the  Piazza  del  Popolo  is  derived, 
not  from  the  people,  as  is  generally  supposed,  but  from 


the  extensive  grove  of  poplar-trees  that  surrounded  the 
Mausoleum  of  Augustus,  and  long  formed  the  most  con- 
spicuous feature  in  the  neighbourhood.  The  crescent- 
shaped  sides  of  the  square  are  bounded  on  the  left  by  a 
wall,  with  a  bright  fountain  and  appropriate  statuary  in 
the  middle  of  it,  and  a  fringe  of  tall  cypress-trees,  and 
on  the  right  by  a  similar  wall,  adorned  with  marble 
trophies  and  two  columns  rough  with  the  projecting 
prows  of  ships  taken  from  the  ancient  temple  of  Venice 
and  Rome,  and  rising  in  a  series  of  terraced  walks  to  the 
upper  platform  of  the  Pincio.  At  the  foot  of  this  CoUis 
Horhilorujn^  "  Hill  of  Gardens,"  which  was  a  favourite 
resort  of  the  ancient  Romans,  Nero  was  buried ;  and  in 
earlier  republican  times  it  was  the  site  of  the  famous 
Villa  of  Lucullus,  who  had  accumulated  an  enormous 
fortune  when  general  of  the  Roman  army  in  Asia,  and 
spent  it  on  his  retirement  from  active  life  in  the  most 
sumptuous  entertainments  and  the  most  prodigal  luxuries. 
Here  he  gave  his  celebrated  feast  to  Cicero  and  Pompey. 
From  Lucullus,  the  magnificent  grounds  passed  into  the 
possession  of  Valerius  Asiaticus  ;  and  while  his  property 
they  became  the  scene  of  a  tragedy  which  reminds  one 
of  the  story  of  Ahab  and  Jezebel  and  the  vineyard 
of  Naboth.  The  infamous  Messalina,  the  wife  of  the 
Emperor  Claudius,  coveted  the  grounds  of  Asiaticus. 
With  the  unscrupulous  spirit  of  Jezebel,  she  procured 
ihe  condemnation  to  death  of  the  owner  for  crimes  that 
he  had  never  committed ;  a  fate  which  he  avoided  by 
committing  suicide.  As  soon  as  this  obstacle  w^as  re- 
moved out  of  her  way,  she  appropriated  the  villa ;  and 
in  the  beautiful  grounds  abandoned  herself  to  the  most 
shameless  orgies  in  the  absence  of  her  husband  at  Ostia. 
But  her  pleasure  and  triumph  were  short-lived.  The 
emperor  was  informed  of  her  enormities,  and  hastened 
home  to  take  vengeance.  Having  vainly  tried  all  means 
of  conciliation,  and  attempted  without  effect  to  kill  her- 
self, she  was  slain  in  a  paroxysm  of  terror  and  anguish, 
by  a  blow  of  the  executioner's  falchion ;  and  the  death 


22 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


of  Asiaticus   was  avenged  on   the  very  spot  where  it 
happened. 

The  gardens  of  the  Pincio  are  small,  but  a  fairer  spot 
it  would  be  hard  to  find  anywhere.  The  grounds  are 
most  beautifully  laid  out,  and  so  skilfully  arranged  that 
they  seem  of  far  larger  extent  than  they  really  are. 
Splendid  palm-trees,  aloes,  and  cactuses  give  a  tropical 
charm  to  the  walks ;  rare  exotics  and  bloom-laden  trees 
of  genial  climes,  flashing  fountains,  and  all  manner  of 
cultivated  beauty,  enliven  the  scene ;  while  the  air  blows 
fresh  and  invigorating  from  the  distant  hills.  From  the 
lofty  parapet  of  the  city-wall  which  bounds  it  on  one 
side,  you  gaze  into  the  green  meadows  and  rich  wooded 
solitudes  of  the  Borghese  grounds,  that  look  like  some 
rural  retreat  a  score  of  miles  from  the  city ;  and  from 
the  stone  balustrade  on  the  other  side  you  see  all  Rome 
at  your  feet  with  its  sea  of  brown  houses,  and  beyond 
the  picturesque  roofs  and  the  hidden  river  rising  up  the 
great  mass  of  the  Vatican  buildings  and  the  mighty  dome 
of  St.  Peter's,  which  catches  like  a  mountain  peak  the 
last  level  gold  of  the  sunset,  and  flashes  it  back  like  an 
illumination,  while  all  the  intermediate  view  is  in  shadow. 
No  wonder  that  the  Pincian  Hill  is  the  favourite  pro- 
menade of  Rome,  and  that  on  week-days  and  Sunday 
afternoons  you  see  multitudes  of  people  showing  every 
phase  of  Roman  life,  and  hundreds  of  carriages  contain- 
ing the  flower  of  the  Roman  aristocracy,  with  beautiful 
horses,  and  footmen  in  rich  liveries,  crowding  the  piazza 
below,  ascending  the  winding  road,  and  driving  or  walk- 
ing round  between  the  palms  and  the  pines,  over  the 
garden-paths,  to  the  sound  of  band  music.  And  thus 
they  continue  to  amuse  themselves  till  the  sun  has  set, 
and  the  first  sound  of  the  bells  of  Ave  Maria  is  heard 
from  the  churches ;  and  then  they  wind  their  way  home- 
wards. 

We  pass  out  from  the  Piazza  through  the  Porta  del 
Popolo,  the  only  way  by  which  strangers  used  to  approach 
Rome  from  the  north.     It  was  indeed  a  more  suitable 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


23 


entrance  into  the  Eternal  City  than  the  present  one ;  for 
no  human  being,  with  a  spark  of  imagination,  would  care 
to  obtain  his  first  view  of  the  city  of  his  dreams  from  the 
outside  of  a  great  bustling  railway  station.  But  the  Porta 
del  Popolo  had  annoyances  of  its  own  that  seemed 
hardly  less  incongruous.  One  had  to  run  the  gauntlet 
of  the  custom-house  here,  and  to  practise  unheard-of 
briberies  upon  the  venal  douaniers  of  the  Pope  before 
being  allowed  to  pass  on  to  his  hotel.  And  the  first 
glimpse  of  the  city  from  this  point  did  not  come  up  to 
one's  expectations,  being  very  much  like  that  of  any 
commonplace  modern  capital,  without  a  ruin  visible,  or 
any  sign  or  suggestion  of  the  mistress  of  the  world.  The 
Porta  del  Popolo  almost  marks  the  position  of  the  old 
Flaminian  gate,  through  which  passed  the  great  northern 
road  of  Italy,  constructed  by  the  Roman  censor,  C. 
Flaminius,  two  hundred  and  twenty  years  before  Christ, 
extending  as  far  as  Rimini,  a  distance  of  two  hundred 
and  ten  miles.  Through  that  old  gate,  and  along  that 
old  road,  the  Roman  cohorts  passed  to  conquer  Britain, 
then  a  small  isle  inhabited  by  savage  tribes.  Hardly 
any  path  save  that  to  Jerusalem  has  been  trodden  by  so 
many  human  feet  as  this  old  Flaminian  road.  The 
present  gate  is  said  to  have  been  designed  by  Michael 
Angelo ;  but  it  shows  no  signs  of  his  genius.  On  the 
inner  side,  above  the  keystone  of  the  arch,  is  a  lofty 
brick  wall  in  the  shape  of  a  horse-shoe,  built  exclusively 
for  the  purpose  of  displaying  in  colossal  size,  emblazoned 
in  stucco,  the  city  arms,  the  sun  rising  above  three  or 
four  pyramidal  mountains  arranged  above  each  other. 
The  external  fagade  consists  of  two  pairs  of  Doric 
columns  of  granite  and  marble  flanking  the  arch,  whose 
colour  and  beauty  have  entirely  disappeared  through 
exposure  to  the  weather.  In  the  spaces  between  the 
columns  are  two  statues,  one  of  St.  Peter,  and  the  other 
of  St.  Paul,  of  inferior  merit,  and  very  much  stained  and 
weather-worn.  The  inscription  above  the  arch,  "  To  a 
happy  and  prosperous  entrance,"  seemed  a  mockery  in  the 


24 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


old  douanier  days,  when  delays  and  extortions  vexed  the 
soul  of  the  visitor,  and  produced  a  mood  anything  but 
favourable  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  Eternal  City.  But 
now  the  grievances  are  over.  The  occupation  of  the 
place  is  gone.  The  barracks  on  the  left  for  the  papal 
guards  are  converted  to  other  purposes;  no  custom-house 
officer  now  meets  one  at  the  gate,  and  all  are  free  to 
come  and  go  without  passport,  or  bribe,  or  hindrance. 
Since  I  was  in  Rome  this  old  gateway  being  found  too 
narrow  has  been  considerably  widened  by  the  addition 
of  a  wing  on  each  side  of  the  large  central  arch,  con- 
taining each  a  smaller  arch  in  which  the  same  style  of 
architecture  is  carried  out. 

On  the  right  as  you  go  out  is  the  remarkable  church 
of  Santa  Maria  del  Popolo.  It  is  built  in  the  usual 
Romanesque  style  ;  but  its  external  appearance  is  very 
unpretending,  and  owing  to  its  situation  in  a  corner  over- 
shadowed by  the  wall  it  is  apt  to  be  overlooked.  It  is 
an  old  fabric,  eight  hundred  years  having  passed  away 
since  Pope  Paschal  II.  founded  it  on  the  spot  where 
Nero  was  said  to  have  been  buried.  From  the  tomb  of 
the  infamous  tyrant  grew  a  gigantic  walnut-tree,  the 
roosting- place  of  innumerable  crows,  supposed  to  be 
demons  that  haunted  the  evil  place.  The  erection  of 
the  church  completely  exorcised  these  foul  spirits,  con- 
secrated the  locality,  and  dispelled  the  superstitious  fears 
of  the  people.  Reconstructed  in  the  reign  of  Sixtus  IV., 
about  the  year  1480,  this  church  has  not  the  picturesque 
antiquity  in  this  dry  climate  and  clear  atmosphere  which 
our  Gothic  churches  in  moist  England  present.  Not 
more  widely  did  the  external  aspect  of  the  tabernacle  in 
the  wilderness,  with  its  dark  goat-skin  coverings,  differ 
from  the  interior  of  the  Holy  of  holies,  with  its  golden 
furniture,  than  does  the  commonplace  look  of  the  outside 
of  the  church  of  Santa  Maria  del  Popolo  differ  from  its 
magnificent  interior.  It  is  a  perfect  museum  of  sculpture 
and  painting.  Splendid  tombs  of  eminent  cardinals  of 
the  best  period  of  the  Renaissance,  rare  marbles  and 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


25 


precious  stones  in  lavish  profusion  adorn  the  altars  and 
walls  of  the  chapels  ;  while  they  are  further  enriched  by 
beautiful  frescoes  of  sacred  subjects  from  the  pencils  of 
Penturicchio  and  Annibale  Caracci.  Above  the  high 
altar  is  an  ancient  picture  of  the  Madonna,  with  an 
exceedingly  swarthy  eastern  complexion,  which  is  one 
among  several  others  in  Rome  attributed  to  the  pencil 
of  St.  Luke  the  Evangelist,  and  which  is  supposed  to 
possess  the  power  of  working  miracles.  One  especially 
magnificent  chapel  arrests  the  attention,  and  leaves  a 
lasting  impression — that  of  the  Chigi  family,  built  by 
Fabio  Chigi,  better  known  as  Pope  Alexander  VII.  The 
architecture  was  planned  by  Raphael.  The  design  of  the 
strange  fresco  on  the  ceiling  of  the  dome,  representing 
the  creation  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  was  sketched  by 
him  ;  and  he  modelled  the  beautiful  statue  of  Jonah, 
sitting  upon  a  whale — said  to  have  been  carved  from  a 
block  that  fell  from  one  of  the  temples  in  the  Forum — 
and  sculptured  the  figure  of  Elijah,  which  are  among 
the  most  conspicuous  ornaments  of  the  chapel.  This  is 
the  only  place  in  which  Raphael  appears  in  the  character 
of  an  architect  and  sculptor.  Like  Michael  Angelo,  the 
genius  of  this  wonderfully-gifted  artist  was  capable  of 
varied  expression ;  and  it  seemed  a  mere  accident 
whether  his  ideals  were  represented  in  stone,  or  colour, 
or  words.  On  his  single  head  God  seemed  to  have 
poured  all  His  gifts ;  beauty  of  person,  and  beauty  of 
soul,  and  the  power  to  perceive  and  embody  the  beauty 
and  the  wonder  of  the  world ;  the  eye  of  light  and  the 
heart  of  fire ;  "  the  angel  nature  in  the  angel  name." 
And  yet  amid  his  fadeless  art  he  faded  away;  and  at  the 
deathless  shrines  which  he  left  behind  the  admirer  of  his 
genius  is  left  to  lament  his  early  death. 

Such  thoughts  receive  a  still  more  mournful  hue  from 
a  touching  tomb — touching  even  though  its  taste  be 
execrable — which  records  a  husband's  sorrow  on  account 
of  the  death  of  his  young  wife — a  princess  of  both  the 
distinguished    houses    of    Chigi    and    Odescalchi — who 


26 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


passed  away  at  the  age  of  twenty,  in  the  saddest  of  all  ways 
—in  childbirth.     It  goes  to  one's  heart  to  think  of  the 
desolate  home  and  the  bereaved  husband  left,  as  he  says, 
"  in  solitude  and  grief"     And  though  the  weeper  has 
gone  with  the  wept,  and  the  sore  wound  which  death 
inflicted  has  been  healed  by  his  own  hand  nearly  a  hundred 
years  ago,  we  feel  a  wondrous  sympathy  with  that  old 
domestic  tragedy.     It  is  a  touch  of  nature  that  affects 
one  more  than  all  the  blazonry  and  sculpture  around. 
In  this  weird  church  of  Santa  Maria  del  Popolo,  which 
seems  more  a  mausoleum  of  the  dead  than  a  place  of 
worship  for  the  living,  the  level  rays  of  the  afternoon  sun 
come  through  the  richly-painted  windows  of  the  choir  ; 
and  the  warm  glory  rests  first  upon  a  strange  monument 
of  the  sixteenth  century  at  the  entrance,  where  a  ghastly 
human  skeleton  sculptured  in  yellow  marble  looks  through 
a  grating,  and  then  upon  a  medallion  on  a  tomb,  repre- 
senting a  butterfly  emerging  from  the  chrysalis,  illumining 
the  inscription,  "  Ut  Phoenix  multicabo  dies."     And  this 
old   expressive  symbol  speaks  to   us    of  death  as  the 
Christian's  true  birth,  in  which  the  spirit  bursts  its  earthly 
shell,  and  soars  on  immortal  wings  to  God.     And  the 
church  straightway  to  the  inner  eye  becomes  full  of  a 
transfiguration  glory  which  no  darkness  of  the  tomb  can 
quench,  and  which  makes  all  earthly  love  immortal. 

A  venerable  monastery,  tenanted  by  monks  of  the 
order  of  St.  Augustine,  is  attached  to  this  church,  upon 
whose  brown-tiled  roofs,  covered  with  gray  and  yellow 
lichens,  and  walls  and  windows  of  extreme  simplicity,  the 
eye  of  the  visitor  gazes  with  deepest  interest.  For  this 
was  the  residence  of  Luther  during  his  famous  visit  to 
Rome.  He  came  to  this  place  in  the  fervour  of  youthful 
enthusiasm;  his  heart  was  filled  with  pious  emotions. 
He  knelt  down  on  the  pavement  when  he  passed  through 
the  Porta  del  Popolo,  and  cried,  "  I  salute  thee,  O  holy 
Rome;  Rome  venerable  through  the  blood  and  the 
tombs  of  the  martyrs  !  "  Immediately  on  his  arrival  he 
went  to  the  convent  of  his  own  order,  and  celebrated 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


27 


mass  with  feelings  of  great  excitement.  But,  alas !  he 
was  soon  to  be  disenchanted.  He  had  not  been  many 
days  in  Rome  when  he  saw  that  the  city  of  the  saints  and 
martyrs  was  wholly  given  up  to  idolatry  and  social  corrup- 
tion, and  was  as  different  as  possible  from  the  city  of  his 
dreams.  He  cared  not  for  the  fine  arts  which  covered 
this  pollution  with  a  deceitful  iridescence  of  refinement ; 
and  the  ruins  of  pagan  Rome  had  no  power  to  move  his 
heart,  preoccupied  as  it  was  with  horror  at  the  monstrous 
wickedness  which  made  desolate  the  very  sanctuary  of 
God.  When  he  ascended  on  his  knees  the  famous 
Scala  Santa,  the  holy  staircase  near  the  Lateran  Palace — 
supposed  to  have  belonged  to  Pilate's  house  in  Jerusalem, 
down  whose  marble  steps  our  Saviour  walked,  wearing 
the  crown  of  thorns  .and  the  emblems  of  mock  royalty 
which  the  soldiers  had  put  upon  him — he  seemed  to  hear 
a  voice  whispering  to  him  the  words,  "The  just  shall  live 
by  faith."  Instantly  the  scales  fell  from  his  eyes,  and  he 
saw  the  miserable  folly  of  the  whole  proceeding  ;  and  like 
a  man  suddenly  freed  from  fetters,  he  rose  from  his  knees, 
and  walked  firm  and  erect  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  He 
could  not  remain  another  day  in  the  city.  Returning  to 
his  monastery,  he  there  celebrated  mass  for  the  last  time, 
and  departed  on  the  morrow  with  the  bitter  words,  "Adieu, 

0  city,  where  everything  is  permitted  but  to  be  a  good 
man  ! "  Ten  years  later  he  burnt  the  Bull  of  the  Pope 
in  the  public  square  of  Wittemberg,  and  all  Europe  rang 
with  the  tocsin  of  the  Reformation.  I  never  passed  that 
venerable  monastery  without  thinking  of  the  austere 
German  monk  and  his  glorious  work ;  and  the  old  well- 
known  motto  of  the  Reformation  which  had  been  his 
battle-cry  in  many  a  good  fight  of  faith  received  new 
power  and  meaning  from  the  associations  of  the  place. 
To  the  enlightenment  received  there,  paving  the  way  for 
religious  and  political  liberty  throughout  Christendom, 

1  owed  the  privilege  of  preaching  in  Rome. 

The  Presbyterian  church — I  speak  of  the  past,  for 
since  my  visit  the  church  has  been  removed  to  a  more 


28 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


suitable  site  within  the  walls — is  a  little  distance  farther 
on,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street.  You  enter  by  a 
gateway,  and  find  yourself  in  an  open  space  surrounded 
with  luxuriant  hedges  in  full  bloom,  and  large  flowering 
shrubs,  and  commanding  a  fine  view  of  Monte  Mario  and 
the  open  country  in  that  direction,  including  the  meadows 
where  the  noble  Arnold  of  Brescia  was  burnt  to  death, 
and  his  ashes  cast  into  the  Tiber.  The  church  is  a 
square,  flat-roofed  eastern-looking  building,  in  the  inside 
tastefully  painted  in  imitation  of  panels  of  Cipollino 
marble ;  and  on  the  neat  pulpit  is  carved  the  symbol  of 
the  Scotch  Church,  the  burning  bush  and  its  motto, 
nowhere  surely  more  appropriate  than  in  the  place  where 
the  Christian  faith  has  been  subjected  to  the  flames  of 
pagan  and  papal  persecution  for  eighteen  hundred  years, 
and  has  emerged  purer  and  stronger.  In  that  simple 
church  I  had  the  privilege  of  preaching  to  a  large  but 
fluctuating  congregation,  each  day  differently  composed  of 
persons  belonging  to  various  nationalities  and  denomina- 
tions, but  united  by  one  common  bond  of  faith  and  love. 
At  stated  intervals  we  celebrated  together  the  touching 
feast  that  commemorates  our  Saviour's  dying  love,  and  the 
oneness  of  Christians  in  Him.  The  wonderful  associations 
of  the  place  lent  to  such  occasions  a  special  interest  and 
solemnity.  Surrounded  by  the  ruins  of  man's  glory,  we  felt 
deeply  how  unchanging  was  the  word  of  God.  In  a  city 
of  gorgeous  ceremonials  that  had  changed  Christianity 
into  a  kind  of  baptized  paganism,  we  felt  it  indescribably 
refreshing  to  partake,  in  the  beautiful  simplicity  of  our 
own  worship,  of  the  symbols  of  the  broken  body  and 
shed  blood  of  our  Lord.  We  seemed  to  be  compassed 
about  with  a  great  cloud  of  witnesses,  apostles,  martyrs, 
and  saints,  who  in  the  early  ages  of  the  Church  in  this 
city  overcame  the  world  by  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  and 
by  the  word  of  their  testimony,  and  loved  not  their  lives 
unto  the  death.  More  vividly  than  anywhere  else,  we 
seemed  in  this  place  to  come  to  the  general  assembly 
and  church  of  the  first-born,  which  are  written  in  heaven, 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


29 


and  to  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  and  to  realise 
that  we  were  built  upon  the  foundation  of  the  apostles 
and  prophets,  Jesus  Christ  Himself  being  the  chief  corner- 
stone. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  road  is  the  classic  portico 
that  leads  to  the  Borghese  Villa.  The  gate  is  almost 
always  open ;  and  every  person  is  free  to  wander  at  will 
through  the  magnificent  grounds,  upwards  of  three  miles 
in  circuit,  and  hold  picnics  in  the  sunny  glades,  and  pull 
the  wild  flowers  that  star  the  grass  in  myriads.  On 
Sunday  afternoons  multitudes  come  and  go,  and  a  long 
line  of  carriages,  fiUed  with  the  Roman  nobility  and  with 
foreign  visitors,  in  almost  endless  succession,  make  the 
circuit  of  the  drives.  The  Porta  del  Popolo  becomes 
too  strait  for  the  seething  mass  of  carriages  and  human 
beings  that  pass  through  it ;  and  it  is  with  difficulty,  and 
some  danger  to  life  and  limb,  that  one  can  force  a  pas- 
sage through  the  gay  pleasure-loving  crowd.  At  the 
Carnival  time  the  ordinary  dangers  and  difficulties  are  in- 
creased tenfold ;  and  the  scene  presents  anything  but  a 
Sabbath-like  appearance.  Nor  are  the  danger  and  diffi- 
culty over  when  the  gate  is  passed ;  for  the  Piazza  del 
Popolo  and  the  streets  that  lead  from  it  are  crowded 
with  carriages  and  pedestrians  going  to  or  returning  from 
the  favourite  promenade  on  the  Pincian  Hill.  One  runs 
the  gauntlet  all  the  way  ;  meditation  is  impossible ;  and 
the  return  from  church  in  the  afternoon  is  as  diff'erent  as 
possible  from  the  morning  walk  to  it.  What  pleasure 
can  these  people  derive  from  the  beautiful  walks  and 
drives  in  the  Borghese  grounds,  except  perhaps  that  of 
seeing  and  being  seen  in  a  crowd  ?  There  is  no  seclusion 
of  nature,  no  opportunity  of  quiet  thought. 

On  week-days,  at  certain  hours,  one  may  enjoy  the  place 
thoroughly  without  any  distraction,  and  feel  amid  the 
lonely  vistas  of  the  woods  as  if  buried  in  the  loneliest 
solitude  of  the  Apennines.  And  truly  on  such  occasions 
I  know  no  place  so  fascinating,  so  like  an  earthly  Eden  ! 
The  whole  scene  thrills  one  like  lovely  music.     All  the 


30 


ROMAN  iMOSAlCS 


CHAP. 


charms  of  nature  and  art  are  there  focussed  in  brightest 
perfection.     The  grounds  are  gay  with  starry  anemones, 
and  billowy  acacias  crested  with  odorous  wreaths  of  yellow 
foam,  dark  and  mysterious  with  tall  ilexes,  cypresses,  and 
stone-pines,  enlivened  by  graceful  palms  and  tender  de- 
ciduous trees,  musical  with  falling  and  glancmg  waters, 
and  haunted  by  the  statues  of  Greek  divinities  that  filled 
men's  minds  with  immortal  thoughts  in  the  youth  of  the 
world— dimly  visible  amid  the  recesses  of  the  foliage. 
The  path  leads  to  a  casino  in  which  sculpture  and  paint- 
ing have  done  their  utmost  to  enrich   and   adorn  the 
apartments.      But  the  result  of  all  this  prodigal  display 
of  wealth  and  refinement  is  exceedingly  melancholy.      It 
would  be  death  to  inhabit  these  sumptuous  marble  rooms 
when  their  coolness  would  be  most  agreeable ;  and  the 
witchery  of  the  shadowy  wood  paths  and  bowers  in  their 
summer  perfection  can  be  enjoyed  only  at  the  risk  of 
catching  fever.     Man  has  made  a  paradise  for  himself, 
but  the  malaria  drives  him  out  of  it,  and  all  its  costly 
beauty  is  almost  thrown  away.      Only  during  the  desola- 
tion of  winter,  or  the  fair  promise  and  half  developments 
of  spring,  can  one  wander  safely  through  the  place.    The 
sting  of  the  serpent   is   in  this  Eden.     Cursed  is  the 
ground  for  man's  sake  in  the  fairest  scene  that  his  in- 
dustry, and  genius,  and  virtue  can  make  for  himself;  but 
cursed  with  a  double  curse  is  the  ground  that  he  makes 
a  wilderness  by  his  selfishness  and  wickedness.     And  this 
double  curse,  this   fatal   Circean   spell,  has  come   upon 
these  beautiful  grounds  in  common  with  all  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Rome  because  of  ages  of  human  waste  and 
wrong-doing.     How  striking  a  picture  do  they  present  of 
all  earth's  beauties  and  possessions,  which  promise  what 
they  cannot  fully  accomplish,  which  give  no  rest  for  the 
head  or  home  for  the  heart,  and  in  which,  when  disposed 
to  place  our  trust,  we  hear  ever  and  anon  the  warning 
cry,  "Arise  and  depart,  for  this  is  not  your  rest,  for  it  is 
polluted,  for  it  will  destroy  you  with  a  sore  destruction." 
And  not  without  significance  is  the  circumstance  that 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


31 


such  a  lesson  on  the  vanity  of  all  earthly  things  should 
be  suggested  by  what  one  sees  over  against  the  house  of 
prayer.  It  illustrates  and  emphasises  the  precept  which 
bids  the  worshipper  set  his  affections  on  things  above,  so 
that  the  house  of  God  may  become  to  him  the  very  gate 
of  heaven. 

From  the  entrance  of  the  church,  through  a  long 
suburb,  you  trace  the  old  Flaminian  road  till  it  crosses 
the  Tiber  at  the  Ponte  Molle,  the  famous  Milvian 
Bridge.  It  is  strange  to  think  of  this  hoary  road  of 
many  memories  being  now  laid  down  with  modern 
tramway  rails,  along  which  cars  like  those  in  any  of  our 
great  manufacturing  towns  continually  run.  This  is  one 
of  the  many  striking  instances  in  which  the  past  and 
the  present  are  incongruously  united  in  Rome.  You 
see  on  the  right  side  of  the  road  a  picturesque  ridge  of 
cliffs  clothed  with  shaggy  ilexes  and  underwood,  over- 
hanging at  intervals  the  walls  and  buildings.  It  was 
formed  by  lava  ejected  from  some  ancient  volcano  in 
the  neighbourhood ;  and  over  it  was  deposited,  by  the 
action  of  acidulated  waters  rising  through  the  volcanic 
rock,  a  stratum  of  travertine  or  fresh-water  limestone. 
Not  far  off  is  a  mineral  spring  called  Acqua  Acetosa, 
much  frequented  by  the  inhabitants  on  summer  morn- 
ings, which  may  be  considered  one  of  the  expiring 
efforts  of  volcanic  action  in  the  neighbourhood.  The 
Milvian  Bridge  is  associated  with  most  interesting  and 
important  historical  events.  The  Roman  citizens,  two 
hundred  years  before  Christ,  met  here  the  messengers 
who  announced  the  defeat  of  Asdrubal  on  the  Metaurus 
at  the  end  of  the  second  Punic  war.  Here  the  ambas- 
sadors of  the  Allobroges  implicated  in  Catiline's  con- 
spiracy were  arrested  by  order  of  Cicero.  And  from  the 
parapets  of  the  bridge  the  body  of  Maxentius,  the  rival 
pagan  emperor,  w^as  hurled  into  the  Tiber,  after  his 
defeat  by  Constantine  in  the  great  battle  of  Saxa  Rubra, 
which  took  place  a  little  distance  off.  Visitors  to  the 
Vatican  will  remember  the  spirited  representation  of  this 


32 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


battle  on  the  walls  of  Raphael's  Stanze,  designed  by  the 
Sor^l  n^aster,  and  executed  by  ^^^^^^  ^^^^^^^^^ 
larcest  historical  subject  ever  painted.      By  the  tragic 
detai     of  this  battle,  men  and  horses  being  en.ang  ed  m 
fhl  eddies  of  the  river,  the  Christians  -re  re-mjd  of 
the  destruction  of  Pharaoh  and  his  host  n  the  ^^^  ^^^ 
and  the  consequent  deliverance  of  Israel.      1  he  victory 
on  the  side  of^Constantine  led  to  the  total  overthrow  of 
nLanism  and  put  an  end  to  the  age  of  religious  perse- 
S      On  this  memorable   day  the  seven -branched 
go  den  candlestick  which  Titus   had   taken   from    the 
femple  of  Jerusalem,  according  to  tradition,  was  thrown 
nto  die  Tiber,  where  it  lies  under  a  vast  accumulation 
of  mud  in  the  bed  of  the  river.     It  would  thus  seem  as 
ff  the  lewish  religion,  too,  of  which  the  golden  cand  e- 
stick  was    he  most  eipressive  symbol,  had  come  finally 
o  an  end  in  this  triumph  of  Christianity.     Of  the  monu- 
ments by  which  the  great  battle  was  commemorated  one 
ill  urvles  near  the  Colosseum,  the  well-known  triumphal 
arch  of  Constantine,  which  is  at  once  a  satire  upon  the 
decay  of  art  at  the  time,  and  the  halting  of  the  new 
emperor  between  the  two  religions,  containing,  as  it  does, 
p^g^an  figures  and  inscriptions  mixed  up  incongruously 

with  Christian  ones.  .  , 

We  gaze  with  deep  interest  upon  the  serene  violet 
skv  which  broods  over  the  M.lvian  Bridge,  and  which 
till  sems  to  the  fancy  to  glow  with  the  consciousness 
o     he  ancient  legend,  when  we  -"-f -;'^»'^™: 
that  sky,  while  on  his  march  to  the  battle.  Constant  me 
aw,  surmounting  and  outshining  the  "oonday  suri^  ^e 
wondrous  vision  of  the  flaming  cross,  with  the  words 
"In  thi^  conquer,"  which  assured  him  not  only  of  victory 
in  the  approaching  engagement,  but  of  the  subsequent 
universal   ascendancy   of   Cliristian.ty   throughout    the 
worW     This  vision,  which  in  all  probability  w-as  only  a 
narhe  ion    exaggerated  by  a  superstitious  and  excited 
fmaginat"on!  produced  a  crisis  in  the  life  of  Constantine. 
He  adopted  the  Christian  faith  immediately  afterwards, 


A  WALK  TO  CHURCH  IN  ROME 


33 


and  introduced  the  cross  as  the  standard  of  his  army ; 
and  in  the  faith  of  the  visionary  cross  he  marched  from 
victory  to  victory,  until  at  last  he  reigned  alone  as  head 
of  the  Church  and  Emperor  of  the  world,  and  brought 
about  relations  between  Church  and  State  which  seemed 
to  the  historian  Eusebius  to  be  no  less  than  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  apocalyptic  vision  of  the  New  Jerusalem. 
Beyond  this  scene  stretches  to  the  faint  far-off  horizon 
the  desert  Campagna;  a  dim,  misty,  homeless  land, 
where  the  moan  of  the  wind  sounds  ever  like  the  voice 
of  the  past,  and  the  pathos  of  a  vanished  people  breathes 
over  all  the  scene ;  with  here  and  there  a  gray  nameless 
ruin,  a  desolate  bluff,  or  a  grassy  mound,  marking  the 
site  of  some  mysterious  Etruscan  or  Sabine  city  that 
had  perished  ages  before  Romulus  had  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  Rome.  From  the  contemplation  of  these  wide 
cheerless  wastes  beyond  the  confines  of  history,  peopled 
with  shadowy  forms,  with  whose  long-buried  hopes  and 
sorrows  no  mortal  heart  can  now  sympathise,  I  turn 
back  to  the  fresh,  warm,  human  interests  that  await 
me  in  the  Rome  of  to-day ;  feeling  to  the  full  that  from 
home  to  church  I  have  passed  through  scenes  and  asso- 
ciations sufficient  to  make  a  Sabbath  in  Rome  a  day 
standing  out  from  all  other  days,  never  to  be  forgotten ! 


CHAP.  II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


35 


CHAPTER    II 

THE  APPIAN  WAY 

It  was  the  proud  boast  of  the  ancient  Romans  that  all 
roads  led   to   their  city.     Rome   was    the    centre   and 
mistress  of  the  world ;  and  as  the  loneliest  nil  that  rises 
in  the  bosom  of  the  far-off  mountain  leads,  if  followed 
to  the  ocean,  so  every  path  in  the  remotest  corner  of 
the  vast  empire  conducted  to  the  great  gilded  column 
in  the  Roman  Forum,  upon  which  all  distances  without 
the  walls  were  marked.     To  the  Romans  the  world  is 
indebted  for  opening  up  communications  with  different 
countries.      They  were  the  great  engineers  and  road- 
makers  of  antiquity.      This  seems  to  have  been  the 
work   assigned   to   them  in  the  household   of  nations. 
Rome  broke  down  the  barriers  that  separated  one  nation 
from  another,  and  fused  all  distinctions  of  race  and  lan- 
guage and  religion  into  one  great  commonwealth.     And 
for  the  cohesion  of  all  the  elements  of  this  huge  political 
fabric  nothing  could  have  been  more  effectual  than  the 
magnificent   roads,   by  which   constant   communication 
was  kept  up  between  all  parts  of  the  empire,  and  armies 
could  be   transported   to    quell    a   rising    rebellion    in 
some  outlying  province  with  the  smallest  expenditure  of 
time  and  strength.     In  this  way  the  genius  of  this  won- 
derful people  was  providentially  made   subservient  to 
the   interests   of  Christianity.     At  the   very  time  that 
our  Lord  commissioned,  with  His  parting  breath,  the 
apostles  to  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature,  the  way 


was  prepared  for  the  fulfilment  of  that  commission. 
The  crooked  places  had  been  made  straight,  and  the 
rough  places  smooth.  Along  the  roads  which  the 
Romans  made  throughout  the  world  for  the  march  of 
their  armies  and  the  consolidation  of  their  government, 
the  apostles,  the  soldiers  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  marched 
to  grander  and  more  enduring  victories. 

Of  all  the  roads  of  ancient  Rome  the  Via  Appia  was 
the  oldest  and  most  renowned.  It  was  called  by  the 
Romans  themselves  the  regina  viarum,  the  "queen  of 
roads."  It  was  constructed  by  Appius  Claudius  the 
Blind,  during  the  Samnite  War,  when  he  was  Censor, 
three  hundred  and  thirteen  years  before  Christ,  and  led 
from  Rome  to  Capua,  being  carried  over  the  Pontine 
Marshes  on  an  embankment.  It  was  afterwards  extended 
to  Brindisi,  the  ancient  seaport  of  Rome  on  the  Adriatic, 
and  became  the  great  highway  for  travellers  from  Rome 
to  Greece  and  all  the  eastern  provinces  of  the  Roman 
Empire.  A  curious  link  of  connection  may  be  traced 
between  the  modern  Italian  expression,  when  drinking  to 
a  person's  health  on  leaving  home,  "far  Brindisi,"  and  the 
distant  termination  of  the  Appian  Way,  suggestive,  as  of 
old,  of  farewell  wishes  for  a  prosperous  journey  and  a 
speedy  return  to  the  parting  guest.  The  way  was  paved 
throughout  with  broad  hexagonal  slabs  of  hard  lava,  ex- 
actly fitted  to  each  other ;  and  here  and  there  along  its 
course  may  still  be  seen  important  remains  of  it,  which 
prove  its  excellent  workmanship.  This  method  of  con- 
structing roads  was  borrowed  by  the  Romans  from  the 
Carthaginians,  and  was  tried  for  the  first  time  on  the 
Appian  Way,  all  previous  roads  having  been  formed  of 
sand  and  gravel.  The  greatest  breadth  of  the  road  was 
about  twenty-six  feet  between  the  curbstones;  and  on  both 
sides  were  placed,  at  intervals  of  forty  feet,  low  columns, 
as  seats  for  the  travel-worn,  and  as  helps  in  mounting  on 
horseback.  Distances  of  five  thousand  feet  were  marked 
by  milestones,  which  were  in  the  form  of  columnar  shafts, 
elevated  on  pedestals  with  appropriate  inscriptions.     The 


36 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


37 


physical  wants  of  the  traveller  were  provided  for  at  inns 
jHidiciously  disposed  along  the  route ;  while  his  religious 
wants  were    gratified  by  frequent  statues   of   Mercury, 
Apollo,  Diana,  Ceres,  Hercules,  and  other  deities,  who 
presided  over  highways  and  journeys,  casting  their  sacred 
shadow  over  his  path.     Some  of  the  stones  of  the  pave- 
ment still  show  the  ruts  of  the  old  chariot-wheels,  and 
others  are  a  good  deal  cracked  and  worn;  but  they  are 
sound  enough,  probably,    to  outlast  the    modern  little 
cubes  which  have  replaced  them  in  some  parts.     A  road 
formed  in  this  most  substantial  manner  for  about  two 
hundred  miles,  involving  cuttings  through  rocks  filling 
up  of  hollows,  bridging  of  ravines,   and  embanking  of 
svvamps,  must  have  been  an  arduous  and  costly  feat  ot 
engineering.     Appius  Claudius  is  said  to  have  exhausted 
the  Roman  treasury  in  defraying  the  expenses  of  its  con- 
struction.     It   was   frequently    repaired,   owing  to    the 
heavy  traffic  upon  it,  by  Julius,  by  Augustus  Vespasian, 
Domitian,  Nerva,  and  very  thoroughly  by  the  Emperor 
Trajan.      In  some  parts,    where  the  soft   ground   had 
subsided,  a  second  pavement   was  laid  over  the  first ; 
and  in  the  Pontine  Marshes  we  observe  traces  of  no  less 
than  three  pavements  superimposed  above  each  other  to 
preserve  the  proper  level. 

For  a  considerable  distance  outside  the  Porta  Capena 
where  it  commenced,  the  Appian  Way  was  lined  on  both 
sides  with  tombs  belonging  to  patrician  families       Ihis 
was  the  case,  indeed,  with  all  the  other  roads  of  Rome 
that  were  converted  into  avenues  of  death  owing  to  the 
strenuous  law  which  prohibited  all  interments  within  the 
walls ;  but  the  Appian  Way  was  specially  distinguished 
for  the  number  and  magnificence  of  its  tombs,      ihe 
most  illustrious  names  of  ancient  Rome  were  interred 
beside  it.     At  first  the  sepulchres  of  the  heroes  of  the 
early  ages  were  the  only  ones  ;  but  under  the  Caesars 
these  were  eclipsed  by  the  funereal  pomp  of  the  freed- 
men,  the  parasites  and  sycophants  of  the  emperors.     At 
first  the  tombs  were  built  of  volcanic  stone,  the  only 


building  material  found  in  the  neighbourhood ;  but  as 
Rome  became  mistress  of  the  world,  and  gathered  the 
marbles  and  precious  stones  of  the  conquered  countries 
into  its  own  bosom,  and  as  wealth  and  luxury  increased, 
the  tombs  were  constructed  altogether  of  or  cased  on 
the  outside  with  these  valuable  materials.  And  this  cir- 
cumstance gives  us  a  clue  to  the  age  of  the  different 
monuments. 

The  custom  of  bordering  the  main  approaches  of  the 
city  with  sepulchral  monuments  was,  in  all  likelihood, 
derived  from  the  Etruscans,  to  whom  the  Romans  owed 
many  of  their  institutions.  These  monuments  were 
usually  structures  of  great  beauty  and  elegance.  Some 
of  them  were  fashioned  as  conical  mounds,  on  the  slopes 
of  which  trees  and  parterres  of  flowers  were  planted; 
others  were  built  after  the  model  of  graceful  Grecian 
temples ;  others  were  huge  circular  masses  of  masonry ; 
and  others  were  simple  sarcophagi  with  lids,  resting  on 
square  elevated  pedestals.  Most  of  them  were  adorned 
with  busts  and  statues  of  the  departed,  with  altars, 
columns,  and  carvings.  What  these  tombs  were  in 
their  prime,  it  is  difficult  for  us  to  picture ;  but  even 
their  remains  at  the  present  day  produce  the  conviction 
that  no  grander  mode  of  approach  to  a  great  city  could 
have  been  devised. 

It  would  seem  to  us  altogether  incongruous  to  line 
our  public  roads  with  tombs,  and  to  transact  the  business 
and  pursue  the  pleasures  of  the  living  among  the  dead. 
All  our  ideas  of  propriety  would  be  shocked  by  seeing  a 
circus  for  athletic  games  beside  a  cemetery.  But  the 
ancient  Romans  had  no  such  feeling.  They  buried  their 
dead,  not  in  lonely  spots  and  obscure  churchyards  as  we 
do,  but  where  the  life  of  the  city  was  gayest.  One 
of  the  grandest  of  their  sepulchral  monuments  was  placed 
beside  one  of  the  most  frequented  of  their  circuses. 
The  last  objects  which  a  Roman  beheld  when  he  left  the 
city,  and  the  first  that  greeted  him  on  his  coming  back, 
were  the  tombs  of  his  ancestors  and  friends ;   and  their 


VI 


I 


38 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


silent  admonition  did  not  deepen  the  sadness  of  fare- 
well, or  cast  a  shadow  upon  the  joy  of  return  Many  of 
the  marble  sarcophagi  were  ornamented  with  beautiful 
bas-reliefs  of  mythical  incidents,  utterly  inconsistent, 
we  should  suppose,  with  the  purpose  for  which  they 
were  designed.  Nuptials,  bacchanalian  fetes,  games, 
and  dances,  are  crowded  upon  their  sculptured  sides, 
in  seeming  mockery  of  the  pitiable  relics  of  humanity 
within  They  treated  death  lightly  and  playfully,  these 
ancient  Romans,  and  tried  to  hide  his  terror  with  a 
mask  of  smiles,  and  to  cover  his  dart  with  a  wreath  of 

"^"why  is  it  that  we  Christians  look  upon  death  with 
feelings  so  widely  different?   Why,  when   life  and   im- 
mortality have  been  brought  to  light  in  the  gospel,  are 
the  mementoes  of  mortality  more  painful  and  saddening  to 
us  than  they  were  to  these  pagans  who  had  no  hopes  ot  a 
resurrection?    It  seems  a  paradox,  but  the  Christianity 
which  has  brought  the  greatest  hope  into  the  world  has 
also  brought  the  greatest  fear.      By  increasing  the  value 
of  life  our  religion  has  increased  the  fear  of  death.     By 
quickening  the  conscience,  it  has  quickened  the  imagina- 
tion •    and  that  death  which  to  the  man  conscious  only 
of  a  physical  existence  is  the  mere  natural  termination  of 
life  to  the  nature  convinced  of  sin  is  a  violent  breach  of 
the  beautiful  order  of  the  world,  and  the  gate  to  final 
retribution.     The  ancient   Roman  was  but  a  child  in 
spiritual  apprehension,  and  therefore  as  a  child  he  surren- 
dered his  happy  pagan  life  as  thoughtlessly  as  the  weary 
child  falls  asleep  at  the  end  of  its  play.     No  terrors  of 
futurity  darkened  his  last  hours ;  he  had  his  own  turn  at 
the  feast  of  life,  and  as  a  satisfied  guest  he  was  content  to 
depart  and  make  room  for  others.      As  cheerfully  as  he 
had  formerly  begun  his  ordinary  journeys  from  Rome 
through  a  street  of  tombs,  so  now  he  took  the  last  journey, 
he  knew  not  whither,  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death,   and   feared   no   evil;  not   because  a  greater 
Power  was  with  him  to  defend  him,  but  because  for  him 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


39 


no  evil  except  the  common  pangs  of  dissolution  existed. 
All  that  he  cared  for  in  death  was  that  he  should  not  be 
altogether  separated  from  the  presence  and  the  enjoy- 
ments of  human  life,  from  the  haunts  where  he  had  been 
so  happy.  He  wished  to  have  his  tomb  on  the  public 
thoroughfare,  that  he  might  "  feel,  as  it  were,  the  tide  of 
life  as  it  flowed  past  his  monument,  and  that  his  mute 
existence  might  be  prolonged  in  the  remembrance  of  his 
friends."  I  may  observe  that  the  Roman  custom  of 
bordering  the  public  roads  with  tombs  gives  a  significance 
to  the  inscriptions  which  some  of  them  bore, — such  as, 
Sisfe,  viator— Aspice,  viator,  "Stop,  traveller "—" Look, 
traveller  " ;  a  significance  which  is  altogether  lost  when 
the  same  inscriptions  are  carved,  as  we  have  often  seen 
them,  on  tombstones  in  secluded  country  churchyards 
where  no  traveller  ever  passes  by,  and  hardly  even  friends 

come  to  weep. 

Modern  Rome  is  unlike  all  other  European  cities  in 
this  respect,  that  a  short  distance  beyond  its  gates  you 
plunge  at  once  into  a  desert.  There  is  no  gradual  sub- 
sidence of  the  busy  life  of  the  gay  metropolis,  through 
surburban  houses,  villages,  and  farms,  into  the  quiet 
seclusion  of  the  country.  You  pass  abruptly  from  the 
seat  of  the  most  refined  arts  into  the  most  primitive 
solitude,  where  the  pulse  of  life  hardly  beats.  The 
desolation  of  the  Campagna,  that  green  motionless  sea 
of  silence,  comes  up  to  and  almost  washes  the  walls 
of  the  city.  You  know  that  you  are  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood  of  a  teeming  population ;  but  you  might 
as  well  be  a  hundred  miles  away  in  the  heart  of  the 
Apennines,  for  any  signs  of  human  culture  or  habitation 
that  you  perceive  within  the  horizon.  There  is  no  traffic 
on  the  road;  and  only  at  rare  intervals  do  you  meet 
with  a  solitary  peasant,  looking  like  a  satyr  in  shaggy  goat- 
skin breeches,  and  glaring  wildly  at  you  from  his  great 
black  eyes  as  he  crosses  the  waste.  Far  as  the  eye  can 
see  there  is  nothing  but  a  melancholy  plain,  studded 
here  and  there  with  a  ruin,  and  populous  only  with  the 


40 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


visionary  forms  of  the  past ;  and  its  tragic  beauty  prepares 
your  mind  for  passing  into  the  solemn  shadow  of  the 
great  Niobe  of  cities.  But  it  was  not  thus  in  the  briUiant 
days  of  the  Empire.  For  fifteen  miles  beyond  the  walls 
the  Appian  Way  stretched  to  the  beautiful  blue  Alban 
hills,  through  a  continuous  suburb  of  the  city,  adorned 
with  all  the  charms  of  nature  and  art,  palatial  villas  and 
pleasure-gardens,  groves  and  vineyards,  temples  and  far- 
extending  aqueducts.  These  homes  and  fashionable 
haunts  of  the  living  were  interspersed  in  strange  associa- 
tion with  the  tombs  of  the  dead.  Through  the  gate  a 
constant  stream  of  human  life  passed  in  and  out ;  and 
crowds  of  chariots  and  horsemen  and  wayfarers  thronged 
the  road  from  morning  to  night. 

It  is  only  seventeen  years  since  the  true  point  of 
commencement  of  the  Appian  Way  was  discovered.  For 
a  long  time  the  Porta  Capena  by  which  it  left  Rome 
was  supposed  to  be  situated  outside  of  the  present  walls, 
in  the  valley  of  the  Almo.  But  Dr.  Parker,  at  the  period 
indicated,  making  some  excavations  in  the  narrowest 
part  of  the  valley  between  the  Coelian  and  Aventine  hills, 
came  upon  some  massive  remains  of  the  original  wall  of 
Servius  Tullius,  and  in  these  he  found  the  true  site  of 
the  Porta  Capena,  This  discovery,  confirming  the  sup- 
position of  Ampbre  and  others,  cleared  up  much  that 
was  inexplicable  in  the  topography  of  this  part  of  Rome, 
and  enabled  antiquarians  to  fix  the  relative  position  ot 
all  the  historical  spots.  The  Via  Appia  is  thus  shown 
to  have  extended  upwards  of  three-quarters  of  a  mile 
within  the  present  area  of  the  city,  over  the  space  between 
the  wall  of  Servius  Tullius  and  the  wall  of  Aurelian. 
And  this  is  still  further  confirmed  by  the  discovery,  three 
hundred  years  ago,  of  the  first  milestone  of  the  Appian 
Way  in  a  vineyard,  a  short  distance  beyond  the  modern 
gate  of  St.  Sebastian,  marking  exactly  a  Roman  mile 
from  that  point  to  the  site  of  Dr.  Parker's  discovery. 
This  milestone  now  forms  one  of  the  ornaments  on  the 
balustrade  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  of  the  Capitol. 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


41 


The  Appian  Way  shared  in  the  vicissitudes  of  the  city. 
After  the  fall  of  the  Western  Empire,  about  the  begin- 
ning of  the  sixth  century,  when  it  was  finally  repaired  by 
Theodoric,  it  fell  into  desuetude.  The  people,  owing  to 
the  unsettled  state  of  the  country,  were  afraid  to  move  from 
home.  A  grievous  apathy  took  possession  of  all  classes ; 
agriculture  was  neglected,  and  the  drains  being  stopped 
up,  the  line  of  route  was  inundated,  and  the  road,  especi- 
ally on  the  low  levels,  became  quite  impassable.  For 
centuries  it  continued  in  this  state,  until  it  was  overgrown 
with  a  marshy  vegetation  in  the  wet  places,  and  covered 
with  turf  in  the  dry.  About  a  hundred  years  ago  Pope 
Pius  VI.  drained  the  Pontine  Marshes,  and  restored 
other  parts  of  the  road,  and  made  it  available  as  the 
ordinary  land-route  from  Rome  to  Naples.  But  it  was 
left  to  Pio  Nono  to  uncover  the  road  between  Rome 
and  Albano,  which  had  previously  been  confounded  with 
the  Campagna,  and  was  only  indicated  by  the  double 
line  of  ruined  tombs.  After  three  years  of  hard  work, 
and  an  expenditure  of  ;£^3ooo,  the  part  most  interesting 
to  the  archaeologist — namely,  from  the  third  to  the 
eleventh  milestone — was  laid  bare,  its  monuments  identi- 
fied as  far  as  possible,  and  a  wall  of  loose  stones  built 
on  both  sides,  to  protect  it  from  the  encroachments  of 
the  neighbouring  landowners.  And  now  the  modern 
traveller  can  walk  or  ride  or  drive  comfortably  over  the 
very  pavement  which  Horace  and  Virgil,  Augustus  and 
Paul  traversed,  and  gaze  upon  the  ruins  of  the  very 
objects  that  met  their  eyes. 

Taking  our  departure  from  the  site  of  the  Porta 
Capena,  we  are  reminded  that  it  was  at  the  Porta  Capena 
that  the  survivor  of  the  Horatii  met  his  sister,  who  had 
been  betrothed  to  one  of  the  Curiatii,  and  who,  when 
she  saw  her  brother  carrying  the  cloak  of  her  dead  lover, 
which  she  had  wrought  with  her  own  hand,  upbraided 
him  in  a  passion  of  tears  for  his  cruelty.  Enraged  at 
the  sight  of  her  grief,  Horatius  drew  his  sword  and 
stabbed  her  to  the  heart,  crying,  "  So  perish  the  Roman 


42 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


maiden  that  shall  weep  for  her  country's  enemy  ! "  The 
tomb  of  the  hapless  maiden  long  stood  on  the  spot.  It 
was  at  the  Porta  Capena  also  that  the  senate  and  people 
of  Rome  gave  to  Cicero  a  splendid  ovation  on  his  re- 
turn from  banishment.  Numerous  historical  buildings 
clustered  round  this  gate— a  temple  of  Mars,  of  Hercules, 
of  Honour  and  Virtue,  and  a  fountain  dedicated  to 
Mercury,  described  by  Ovid  ;  but  not  a  trace  of  these 

now  remains. 

On  the  left,  at  the  back  of  the  Calian  Hill,  is  a 
valley  covered  with  verdure,  wonderfully  quiet  and  rural- 
looking,   though   within  the  walls   of  a   city.      In   this 
valley  once  stood  the  famous  grove  where  Numa  Pom- 
pilius  had  his   mysterious    interviews  with   the  nymph 
Egeria.     A  spring  still  bubbles  forth  beside  a  cluster  of 
farm-buildings,  which  is  said  to  be  the  veritable  Fountain 
of  Egeria.     The  temple  of  the  Muses,  who  were  Egeria's 
counsellors,  was  close  by ;  and  the  name  of  the  gate  of 
the  city.  Porta  Capena,  was  in  all  likelihood  a  corruption 
of   Camena,  the    Latin   name   for   Muse,  and  was   not 
derived,  as  some  suppose,  from  the  city  of  Capua.     The 
spot  outside  the  present  walls,  formerly  visited  as  the 
haunt  of  the  fabled  nymph,  before  the  discovery  of  the 
site  of  the  Capena  gate  fixed  its  true  position— beautiful 
and  romantic  as  it  is— was  only  the  nymphaeum  of  some 
Roman  villa,  used  as  a  place  of  retirement  and  coolness 
in  the  oppressive  heat  of  summer.     Of  all  the  legends 
of  Rome's  earliest  days,  none  is  more  poetical  than  that 
which  speaks  of  the  visits  of  Numa  to  this  mysterious 
being,  whose  counsels  in  these  sacred  shades  were  of 
such  value  to  him  in  the  management  of  his  kingdom, 
and  who  dictated  to  him  the  whole  religious  institutions 
and  civil  legislation  of  Rome.     Whatever  historical  basis 
it  may  have,  the  legend  has  at  least  a  core  of  moral 
truth.     It  illustrates  the  necessity  of  solitude  and  com- 
munion with   Higher   Powers  as  a  preparation  for  the 
solemn  duties  of  life.     All  who  have  influenced   men 
permanently  for  good  have  drawn  their  inspiration  from 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


43 


lonely  haunts  sacred  to  meditation — ever  since  Moses 
saw  the  burning  bush  in  the  desert,  and  Elijah  bowed  his 
strong  soul  to  the  majesty  of  the  still  small  voice  at  Horeb. 

The  romance  of  the  grove  of  Egeria  was,  however, 
dispelled  when  the  valley  was  turned  into  a  place  of  im- 
prisonment for  the  Jews,  Domitian  drove  them  out  of 
the  Ghetto,  and  shut  them  up  here,  with  only  a  basket 
and  a  wisp  of  hay  for  each  person,  to  undergo  unheard-of 
privations  and  miseries.  The  Horticultural  Gardens, 
where  the  shrubs  and  plants  are  grown  that  ornament  the 
public  squares  and  terraces  of  the  city,  now  occupy  the 
site  of  the  celebrated  grove.  The  shrill  scream  of  the 
railway  whistle  outside  the  gate,  and  the  smell  of  the 
gas-works  near  at  hand — these  veritable  things  of  the 
present  century — are  fatal  to  all  enchantments,  and  effect- 
ually dissipate  the  spell  of  the  muses  and  the  mystic  frag- 
rance of  the  Egerian  solitude.  But  wonderful  is  the 
persistence  of  a  spring  in  a  spot.  Continually  changing, 
it  is  the  most  changeless  of  all  things.  For  ever  passing 
away,  it  is  yet  the  most  steadfast  and  enduring.  Derived 
from  the  fleeting  vapour — the  emblem  of  inconstancy — 
it  outlasts  the  most  solid  structure  of  man,  and  continues 
to  well  up  its  waters  even  when  the  rock  beside  it  has 
weathered  into  dust.  The  Fountain  of  Egeria  flows  to-day 
in  the  hollow  of  the  Coelian  Hill  as  it  flowed  nigh  three 
thousand  years  ago,  although  the  muses  have  fled,  and  the 
deities  Picus  and  Faunus,  which  Numa  entrapped  in  the 
wood  of  the  Aventine,  have  gone  back  to  their  native 
skies  with  Jupiter ;  and  Mammon  and  Philosophy  have 
exorcised  that  unseen  world  which  once  presented  so 
many  beauties  and  wonders  to  the  imagination  of  man. 

A  little  farther  on  to  the  right,  a  side  path,  called  the 
Via  Antonina,  leads  up  to  the  stupendous  ruins  of  the 
Baths  of  Caracalla,  a  mile  in  circumference,  and  cover- 
ing a  space  of  2,625,000  square  yards.  The  walls, 
arches,  and  domes  of  massive  brickwork  hanging  up  in 
the  sky, — the  fragments  of  sculpture  and  splendid  mosaic 
pavements  belonging  to  these  baths, — produced  a  deeper 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


44 

impression  upon  my  mind  than  even  the  ruins  of  the 
Colosseum.    With  the  form  and  majesty  of  the  Colosseum, 
owing  to  its  compactness  and  unity,  pictures  and  other 
representations  have  made  us  famihar  from  m  ancy,  so 
that  it  excites  no  surprise  when  we  actually  visit  it ;  but 
he  Baths  of  Caracalla  cannot  be  pictorially  represented 
as  a  whole,  on  account  of  their  vast  variety  and  extent, 
and  therefore  we  come  to  the  spectacle  wholly  unprepared 
and  are  at  once   startled   into   awe   and   astonishment. 
Notwithstanding    the    wholesale    pillage    of    centuries 
enough    in   the    way  of  chambers    and   baths,   marble 
tatuS  pillars,  and' works  of  art,  still  remains  in  th.s 
mountainous   mass   of  masonry  to  witness   to  the   un^ 
naralleled  luxury  by  which  the  strength  of  the  Roman 
Cth  was  enervated,  and  the  foundations  of  the  empire 
saoned      Shelley  wrote  on  the  summit  of  one  of  the 
arches    his  "Prometheus   Unbound;"    and  certainly  a 
fitter  place  in  which  to  seek  inspiration  for  such  a  theme 

could  not  be  found.  r,v,^rondi«> 

Beyond  the  Baths,  on  the  same  side  of  the  road,   s 
the    most  interesting  little    church  of  the    two    saints 
Nereus    and    Achilles,    Christian    slaves    who    suffered 
martyrdom  in  the  reign  of  Diocletian.     It  is  supposed 
Tat  the   Nereus  whose  body  reposes   in   this   ancient 
church  is  the  person  referred  to  by  St.  Paul  m  his  greet- 
Ls  to  the  Roman  saints  at  the  close  of  his  Epistle- 
« Salute  Nereus,  and  his  sister,  and  Olympas,  and  a  1 
the  safnts  which  are  with  them.>'     Bolland,  m  his^./. 
of  the  Saints,  mentions  that  he  was  a  servant   in    he 
household  of  Flavia  Domitilla,  niece  of  the  celebrated 
Christian  lady  of  the  same  name,  whose  mother  was  the 
sister  of  the  Emperor  Domitian,  and  whose  two  sons 
were  intended  to  succeed  to  the  imperial  throne.     This 
younger  Domitilla,  although  so  nearly  related  to  the 
mpedal  family,  was  banished  to  the  island  of  Pontia 
because  of  her  refusal  to  sacrifice  to  idols.     Her  two 
Christian  servants,  Nereus   and  Achilles,  accompanied 
her  in  her  exile,  and  were  afterwards  burned  alive,  along 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


45 


with  their  mistress,  at  Terracina,  and  their  ashes  deposited 
in  the  same  resting-place.     It  is  a  remarkable  circum- 
stance that  this  church  and  the  catacomb  where  they 
were  buried  at  first,  should  have  borne  the  names  of  the 
lowly  slaves   instead   of  the  name   of  their   illustrious 
mistress,  who  was  as  distinguished  by  her  Christian  faith 
as  by  her  rank.     Time  brought  to  these  noble  martyrs  a 
worthy  revenge  for  their  ignoble  fate ;  for  when  their  ashes 
were  taken  from  the  catacomb  to  this  church  in  the  year 
524,  they  were  first  carried  in  triumph  to  the  Capitol, 
and  made  to  pass  under  the  imperial  arches,  on  which 
was  affixed  the  inscriptions  ''The  Senate  and  the  Roman 
people  to  Santa  Flavia  Domitilla,  for  having  brought 
more  honour  to  Rome  by  her  death  than  her  illustrious 
relations  by  their  works."     "To  Santa  Flavia  Domitilla, 
and  to   the  saints  Nereus  and  Achilles,  the   excellent 
citizens  who  gained  peace  for  the  Christian  republic  at 
the  price  of  their  blood."     Jeremy  Taylor,  in  his  splendid 
sermon  on  the  "  Marriage-ring,"  has  a  touching  reference 
to  the  legendary  history  of  Nereus.     The  church  dedi- 
cated to  the  honour  of  these  Christian  slaves  has  many 
interesting  associations.     It  stands  upon  the  site  of  a 
primitive  Christian  oratory,  called  Fasciola,  because  St. 
Peter  was  said  to  have  dropped  there  one  of  the  band- 
ages of  his  wounds  on  the  way  to  execution.     And  its 
last  reconstruction,  retaining  all  the  features  of  the  old 
architecture  with  the  utmost  care,  was  the  pious  work 
of  its  titular  cardinal,  Caesar  Baronius,  the  celebrated 
librarian  of  the  Vatican,  whose    Ecclesiastical  Annals 
may  be  called  the  earliest  systematic  work  on  Church 
History.     The  church  has  an  enclosed  choir,  with  two 
ambones  or  reading-desks  in  it,  surrounding  the  altar,  as 
was  the  custom  in  the  older  Christian  churches.     The 
mosaics  on  the  tribune  representing  the  "Transfiguration  " 
and  "Annunciation"  are  more  than  a  thousand  years 
old,  and  are  interesting  besides  as  the  first  embodiments 
in  art  of  these  sacred  subjects.     Behind  the  high  altar  is 
the  pontifical  chair,  supported  by  lions,  with  a  Gothic 


46 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


47 


Ki  ^«  vvhirh  Greaorv  the  Great  was  seated  when  he 
gable,  on  which  ^^^8^^  TTnmilv  a  few  sentences  of 
delivered  his  twenty-eighth  Homily,  a  icw  bc 

Tomb  of  the  Scipios  is  here.     Ih.s  «  by  far  the 
interesting  of  all  the  ^-^^^  Un^e  of    ht'n    "t  S 
J^s  ntrrSLn  hiS-patriots  and  heroes, 
whose  virtues  and  honours  were  hereditary.     Or.gmal  V 

t  out  of  sish"  1°  was  accidentally  discovered  in  1780, 
rcon:;;fnce  of  a  peasant  digging  '"  '"y-i  ° 
make  a  cellar,  and  breaking  trough  ^Paj'ofJ;  ^^Jf^ 
rnof  of  the  tomb.  Then  was  brought  suddenly  to  ngai 
Z:£::a   sarcophagus   of  f^^^^^^^^^^Zi 

SSsiSo"t'i~^^ 

^r::rfy^U-twocen.^^^^ 

SSme  rrirtw^'btts^ne^of  which  is  supposed 

Te  Xt  otthe  poet  Ennius,  the  ^'-^^f^^^^-^^;, 

of  Scipio  Africanus  whose  1-'  -;^"-^'/"  pt„ '  eS 

was  that  he  might  be  buried  by  his  siae.     riiny 

hat  the  Scipios  had  the  singular  custom   of  bun^mg 

\     Lfi^mP  recesses  of  the  catacombs.     The  darkness 

Krf  X"s:i  -c^i"?"  «>■>»' '"  "■' 


extreme.    Here  and  there  were  Latin  inscriptions  attached 
to  the  different  recesses  where  the  dead  had  Iain ;   but 
they  were  only  copies,  the  originals  having  been  removed 
to  the  Vatican,  where  the  sarcophagus  of  Lucius  Scipio 
Barbatus  and  the  bust  of  the  poet  Ennius  may  now  be 
seen.     The  very  bones  of  the  illustrious  dead  have  been 
carried  off,  and  after  a  series  of  adventures  they  are  now 
deposited  in  a  beautiful  little  monument  in  the  grounds 
of  a  nobleman  near  Padua.      The  gold  signet-ring  of 
Scipio  Africanus,  with  a  victory  in  intaglio  on  a  cornelian 
stone,  found  in  the  tomb  of  his  son,  who  was  buried 
here,  is  now  in  the  possession  of  Lord  Beverley.      It 
must  be  remembered,  however,  that  Scipio  Africanus, 
the  most  illustrious  of  his  family,  and  the  noblest  of  all 
the  Roman  names,  was  not  interred  in  this  mausoleum. 
A  strange  mystery  hung  over  the  manner  of  his  death 
and  the  place  of  his  burial  even  in  Livy's  time.     Some 
said  that  he  died  at  Rome,  and  others  at  Liternum. 
A  fragment  of  an  inscription  was  found  near  the  little 
lake  at  the  latter  place,  beside  which  he  resided  during 
the  dignified  exile  of  his  later  years,  which  contained 
only    the    words — "  .   .   .   ta    Patria  .    .    .   ne  .    .   ." 
Antiquarians  have  filled  out  this  sentence  into  the  touch- 
ing  epigraph   recorded   by   Livy,  which  Scipio  himself 
wished  to  be  put  upon  his  tomb  :   "  Ingrata  Patria,  ne  ossa 
quidem,  mea  habes,"  "My  ungrateful  country,  thou  hast 
not  even  my  bones."     Empty  as  the  tomb  of  the  Scipios 
looks,  no  one  can  behold  it  without  feelings  of  profound 
veneration.     The  history  of  the  most  heroic  period  of 
ancient  Rome  is  linked  with  this  tomb;    and  all  the 
romance  of  the  Punic  Wars,  of  Hannibal  and  Hasdrubal, 
pass  before  the  mind's  eye,  as  one  gazes  upon  the  dese- 
crated chambers  where  the  son  and  relatives  of  the  great 
conqueror  had  reposed  in  death. 

Within  a  short  distance  of  the  tomb  of  the  Scipios 
are  the  most  celebrated  of  all  the  Columbaria  of  Rome. 
Previous  to  the  fifth  century  of  Rome,  the  bodies  of  the 
dead  were  buried  entire,  and  deposited  in  sarcophagi ; 


I    / 


48 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


11 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


49 


but  after  that  period  cremation  became  the  un.ver^l 
cu  torn      The  ashes  and  calcined  bones  were  preserved 
TZ  or  little  jars  like  common  garden  flower-pots 
made  of  the  same  kind  of  coarse  red  earthenware,  with 
riid  attached.     These  jars  were  deposited  m  rows  o 
httle  niches  sunk  in  the  brickwork  all  round  the  walls 
of  the  tomb,  resembling  the  nests  in  a  p.geon-house , 
hence  the  origin  of  the  name.     One  tomb  was  thus 
capable  of  confining  the  remains  of  a  large  number  o 
oe?sons    no  less  than  six  thousand  of  the  freedmen  of 
AuTustus  being  deposited  in  the  Columbarmm  which 
beartheir  naL.  ^The  entrance  to  these  se;,uchra 
chambers  was  from  the  top,  descendmg  by  an  mternal 
s?air     and  the  passages  and  walls  were  usually  decorated 
wUh 'frescoes  and  arlbesques,  m-trating  some  myth. 
or  historical  subject.      The  names  of  the  dead  were 
Lved  on  marbd  tablets  fixed  above  the  p.geon-holes 
Tontating  the  ashes.     Columbaria  being  only  used  fo 
deoendents  and  slaves,  were  generally  erected  near  the 
Sbs  of  their  masters;  and  hence  all  ^'long  *^  ^Pp.an 
Way  we  see  numerous  traces  of  them  s.de  by  side  with 
the  gigantic  monuments  of  the  P^t'c'an.  families       The 
Columbaria  near  the  tomb  of  the  Scipios  are    hree  in 
number,  and  contain  the  cinerary  urns  of  persons  attached 
to  The  household  of  the   emperors  from  the  re.gn  of 
Augustus  up  to  the  period  of  the  Antonmes,  when  the 
fvstem  of  burying  the  bodies  entire  was  again  introduced. 
TheTast  discovered  Columbarium  is  the  most  mterestmg 
of  the  group.     Being  only  thirty-three  years  exposed,  the 
naintinis  on  the  walls  and  the  vases  are  remarkably  well 
?^  "Id.    This  tomb  contains  the  ashes  of  the  depend^ 
ents  of  Tiberius,  the  contemporary  of  our  Lord.     One 
nfeon-hole  is  fil  ed  with  the  calcined  bones  of  the  cour 
buffoon,  a  poor  deaf  and  dumb  slave  who  had  wonder  ul 
powers  of  mimicry,  and  used  to  amuse  his  morose  master 
byto  tating  the  gUticulations  of  the  advocates  pleadmg 
in  th"  Forum.    Another  pigeon-hole  contams  the  remains 
of  the  keeper  of  the  library  of  Apollo  in  the  imperial 


palace  on  the  Palatine.  A  most  pathetic  lamentation  in 
verse  is  made  by  one  Julia  Prima  over  the  ashes  of  her 
husband  ;  and  an  inscription,  along  with  a  portrait  of  the 
animal,  records  that  beneath  are  the  remains  of  a  favourite 
dog  that  was  the  pet  of  the  whole  household — a  little 
touch  of  nature  that  links  the  ages  and  the  zones,  and 
makes  the  whole  world  kin.  The  whole  of  this  region, 
called  Monte  d'Oro,  for  what  reason  I  know  not,  seems  to 
have  been  a  vast  necropolis,  in  which  not  only  Columbaria 
for  their  slaves  and  freedmen  were  built  by  the  great 
patrician  families,  but  also  family  vaults  for  the  wealthier 
middle  classes  were  constructed  and  sold  by  speculators, 
just  as  in  our  modern  town  cemeteries. 

Very  near  the  modern  gate  of  the  city  the  road  passes 
under  the  so-called  Arch  of  Drusus.     It  consists  of  a 
single  arch,  whose  keystone  projects  on  each  side  about 
two  feet  and  a  half  beyond  the  plane  of  the  frontage ; 
and   is   built  of  huge   solid  blocks   of  travertine,   with 
cornices  of  white  marble,  and  two  composite  columns 
of  African  marble  on  each  side,  much  soiled  and  de- 
faced, which  are  so  inferior  in  style  to  the  rest  of  the 
architecture   that    they   are    manifestly  later   additions. 
The  whole  monument  is  much  worn  and  injured ;  but 
it  is  made  exceedingly  picturesque  by  a  crown  of  verdure 
upon  the  thick  mass  of  soil  accumulated  there  by  small 
increments  blown  up  from  the  highway  in  the  course  of 
so  many  centuries.     It  was  long  supposed  that  Caracalla 
had  barbarously  taken  advantage  of  the  arch  to  carry 
across   the   highway  at  this   point   the   aqueduct  which 
supplied   his   baths  with  water.     But  the   more  recent 
authorities   maintain   that   the  arch   itself,   so  far  from 
being  the  monument  of  Drusus,  was  only  one  of  the 
arches  built  by  Caracalla  in  a  more  ornamental  way  than 
the  rest,  as  was  commonly  done  when  an  aqueduct  crossed 
a  public  road.     This  theory  does  away  at  one  fell  stroke 
with  the  idea  so  long  fondly  cherished  that  St.  Paul  must 
have  passed  under  this  very  arch  on  his  way  to  Rome, 
and  that  his  eye  must  have  rested  on  these  very  stones 


»! 


so 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


upon  which  we  gaze  now.  It  is  hard  to  give  up  the  beh'ef 
that  the  stern  old  arch,  severe  in  its  sturdiness  and  sim- 
plicity as  the  character  of  the  apostle  himself,  did  actually 
cast  its  haunted  shadow  over  him  on  the  memorable  day 
when,  a  prisoner  in  chains  in  charge  of  a  Roman  soldier, 
he  passed  over  this  part  of  the  Appian  Way,  and  it 
signalised  a  far  grander  triumph  than  that  for  which  it 
was  originally  erected.  We  should  greatly  prefer  to  re- 
tain the  old  idea  that  under  that  arch  Christianity,  as 
represented  by  St.  Paul,  passed  to  its  conquest  of  the 
whole  Roman  world  ;  and  passed  too  in  character,  the 
religion  of  the  cross,  joy  in  sorrow,  liberty  in  bonds, 
strength  in  weakness,  proclaiming  itself  best  from  the 
midst  of  the  sufferings  which  it  overcame. 

Immediately  beyond  the  Arch  of  Drusus  is  the  Gate 
of  St.  Sebastian,  the  Porta  Appia  of  the  Aurelian  wall, 
protected  on  either  side  by  two  semicircular  towers, 
which  from  their  great  height  and  massiveness  have  a 
most  imposing  appearance.  They  are  composed  of  the 
beautiful  glowing  brick  of  the  ancient  Roman  structures, 
and  rest  upon  a  foundation  of  white  marble  blocks, 
evidently  taken  from  the  Temple  of  Mars,  which  once 
stood  close  by,  and  at  which  the  armies  entering  Rome 
in  triumph  used  to  halt.  The  gateway  was  greatly 
injured  in  the  sixth  century  during  the  Gothic  War,  but 
was  repaired  by  Belisarius ;  or,  as  some  say,  by  Narses. 
The  most  remarkable  incident  connected  with  it  since 
that  period  was  the  triumphal  entry  into  the  city  of 
Marco  Antonio  Colonna,  after  the  victory  of  Lepanto 
over  the  Turks  and  African  corsairs  in  1571.  This 
famous  battle,  one  of  the  few  great  decisive  battles  of 
the  world,  belongs  equally  to  civil  and  ecclesiastical 
history,  having  checked  the  spread  of  Mohammedanism 
in  Eastern  Europe,  and  thus  altered  the  fortunes  of  the 
Church  and  the  world.  The  famous  Spanish  poet 
Cervantes  lost  an  arm  in  this  battle.  The  ovation 
given  to  Colonna  by  the  Romans  in  connection  with  it 
may  be  said  to  be  the  last  of  the  long  series  of  triumphal 


51 


k 


processions  which  entered  the  Eternal  City;  and  in 
point  of  splendour  and  ceremony  it  vied  with  the 
grandest  of  them, — prisoners  and  their  families,  along 
with  the  spoil  taken  from  the  enemy,  figuring  in  it  as  of 
old.  A  short  distance  outside  the  gate,  the  viaduct  of 
the  railway  from  Civita  Vecchia  spans  the  Appian  Way, 
and  brings  the  ancient  "  queen  of  roads "  and  the 
modern  iron-way  into  strange  contrast, — or  rather,  I 
should  say,  into  fitting  contact;  for  there  is  a  resem- 
blance between  the  great  works  of  ancient  and  modern 
engineering  skill  in  their  mighty  enterprise  and  bound- 
less command  of  physical  resources,  which  we  do  not 
find  in  the  works  of  the  intermediate  ages. 

Beyond  the  viaduct  the  road  descends  into  a  valley, 
at  the  bottom  of  which  runs  the  classic  Almo.     It  is 
little  better  than  a  ditch,  with  artificial  banks  overgrown 
with  weeds,  great  glossy-leaved  arums,  and  milky-veined 
thistles,   and   with  a  little  dirty  water  in  it   from   the 
drainings  of  the  surrounding  vineyards.     And  yet  this 
disenchanted  brook  figures  largely  in  ancient  mythical 
story.     Ovid  sang  of  it,  and  Cicero's  letters  mention  it 
honourably.     It  was  renowned  for  its  medicinal  proper- 
ties, and  diseased  cattle  were  brought  to  its  banks  to  be 
healed.     The  famous  simulacrum^  called  the  image  of 
Cybele, — a  black   meteoric   stone  which   fell  from  the 
sky  at  Phrygia,  and  was  brought  to  Rome  during  the 
Second  Punic  War,  according  to  the  Sybilline  instruc- 
tions,— was  washed  every  spring  in  the  waters  of  the 
Almo  by  the  priests  of  the  goddess.     So  persistent  was 
this  pagan  custom,  even  amid  the  altered  circumstances 
of  Christianity,  that,  until  the  commencement  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  an  image  of  our  Saviour  was  annu- 
ally brought  from  the  Church  of  Santa  Martina  in  the 
Forum  and  washed  in  this  stream.      In  the  valley  of  the 
Almo  the  poet  Terence  possessed  a  little  farm  of  twenty 
acres,  given  to  him  by  his  friend  Scipio  ^milianus. 

After  crossing  the  Almo,  two  huge  shapeless  masses 
of  ruins  may  be  seen  above  the  vineyard  walls  :  that  on 


1 


52 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


the  left  is  said  to  be  the  tomb  of  Geta,  the  son  of  the 
Emperor  Severus,  who  was  put  to  death  in  his  mother's 
arms  by  order  of  his  unnatural  brother.  Geta's  child- 
ren and  friends,  to  the  number,  it  is  said,  of  twenty 
thousand  persons,  were  also  put  to  death  on  the  false 
accusation  of  conspiracy  ;  among  whom  was  the  cele- 
brated jurist  Papinian,  who,  when  required  to  compose 
a  defence  of  the  murder — as  Seneca  was  asked  by  Nero 
to  apologise  for  his  crime — nobly  replied  that  "it  was 
easier  to  commit  than  to  justify  fratricide."  But  so 
capricious  was  Caracalla  that  he  soon  afterwards  executed 
the  accomplices  of  his  unnatural  deed,  and  caused  his 
murdered  brother  to  be  placed  among  the  gods,  and 
divine  honours  to  be  paid  to  him.  It  was  in  this  more 
humane  mood  that  the  tomb  whose  ruins  we  see  on  the 
Appian  Way  was  ordered  to  be  built.  The  tomb  on 
the  right-hand  side  of  the  road  is  a  most  incongruous 
structure  as  it  appears  at  present,  having  a  circular 
medieval  tower  on  the  top  of  it,  and  a  common  osteria 
or  wine-shop  in  front ;  but  the  old  niches  in  which 
statues  or  busts  used  to  stand  still  remain.  It  was  long 
supposed  to  be  the  mausoleum  of  the  Scipios ;  but  it  is 
now  ascertained  to  be  the  sepulchre  of  Priscilla,  the 
wife  of  Abascantius,  the  favourite  freedman  of  Domitian, 
celebrated  for  his  conjugal  affection  by  the  poet  Statins, 
Covered  with  ivy  and  mural  plants,  the  monument  has 
a  very  picturesque  appearance. 

The  road  beyond  this  rises  from  the  valley  of  the 
Almo,  and  passes  over  a  kind  of  plateau.  It  is  hemmed 
in  on  either  side  by  high  ugly  walls,  shaggy  with  a  pro- 
fusion of  plants  which  affect  such  situations.  The  wild 
mignonette  hangs  out  its  pale  yellow  spikes  of  blossoms, 
but  without  the  fragrance  for  which  its  garden  sister  is 
so  remarkable ;  and  the  common  pellitory,  a  near  ally 
of  the  nettle,  which  haunts  all  old  ruins,  clings  in  great 
masses  to  the  crevices,  its  leaves  and  ignoble  blossoms 
white  with  the  dust  of  the  road.  Here  and  there  a  tall 
straggling   plant   of  purple   lithospermum   has  found   a 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


53 


footing,    and    flourishes   aloft  its    dark   violet   tiara  of 
blossoms  ;  while  bright  tufts  of  wall-flower  send  up  their 
tongues  of  flame  from  an  old  tomb  peering  above  the 
wall,  as  if  from  a  funeral  pyre.     The  St.  Mary  thistle 
grows  at  the  foot  of  the  walls  in  knots  of  large,  spread- 
ing, crinkled  leaves,  beautifully  scalloped  at  the  edges ; 
the  glazed  surface  reticulated  with  lacteal  veins,  retaining 
the  milk  that,  according  to  the  legend,  flowed  from  the 
Virgin's  breast,  and,  forming  the   Milky  Way  in   mid- 
heaven,  fell   down  to   earth  upon  this  wayside  thistle. 
Huge  columns  of  cactuses  and  monster  aloes  may  be 
seen  rising  above  the  top  of  the  walls,  like  relics  of  a 
geologic  flora  contemporaneous   with   the   age    of  the 
extinct  volcanoes  around.     But  the  most  curious  of  all 
the  plants  that  adorn  the  walls  is  a  kind  of  ivy  which, 
instead  of  the  usual  dark-greenish  or  black  berries,  bears 
yellow  ones.     This  species  is  rare,  but  here  it  occurs  in 
profusion,  and  is  as  beautiful  in  foliage  as  it  is  singular 
in  fruit.     The  walls  themselves,  apart  from  their  floral 
adorning,   are   very   remarkable,  and   deserving   of  the 
most  careful  and  leisurely   study.     They  are   built  up 
evidently  of  the  remains  of  tombs  ;  and  numerous  frag- 
ments of  marble   sarcophagi,   pillars,   inscriptions,   and 
rich  sculpture  are   imbedded  in  them,  suggestive  of  a 
whole  volume  of  antiquarian  lore,  so  that  he  who  runs 
may  read. 

On  the  right  of  the  road,  in  a  vineyard,  are  several 
Columbaria  belonging  to  the  family  of  Csecilius,  an  ob- 
scure Latin  poet,  who  was  a  predecessor  of  Terence, 
and  died  one  hundred  and  sixty-eight  years  before 
Christ ;  and  on  the  left  are  the  Columbaria  of  the  freed- 
men  of  Augustus  and  Livia,  divided  into  three  chambers. 
These  last  when  discovered  excited  the  utmost  interest 
among  antiquarians ;  but  they  are  now  stripped  of  all 
their  contents  and  characteristic  decorations,  and  the 
inscriptions,  about  three  hundred  in  number,  are  pre- 
served in  the  museums  of  the  Capitol  and  Vatican. 
On  the  same  side  of  the  road,  in  a  vineyard,  a  Colum- 


54 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


It 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


55 


barium  was  discovered  in  1825  belonging  to  the  Vol- 
usian  family,  who  flourished  in  the  reign  of  Nero ;  one 
of  whose  members,  Lucius  Volusius,  who  lived  to  the 
age  of  ninety-three,  was  extolled  on  account  of  his 
exemplary  life  by  Tacitus. 

On  the  same  plateau  is  the  entrance  to  the  celebrated 
Catacombs  of  St  CaHxtus.  It  is  on  the  right-hand  side 
of  the  road,  about  a  mile  and  a  quarter  from  the  present 
gate,  and  near  where  stood  the  second  milestone  on  the 
ancient  Appian  Way.  A  marble  tablet  over  the  door  of 
a  vineyard  shaded  with  cypresses  points  it  out  to  the 
visitor.  The  rock  out  of  which  this  and  all  the  Roman 
Catacombs  were  hewn  seems  as  if  created  specially  for 
the  purpose.  Recent  geological  observations  have 
traced  in  the  Campagna  volcanic  matter  produced  at 
different  periods,  when  the  entire  area  of  Rome  and  its 
vicinity  was  the  seat  of  active  plutonic  agency.  This 
material  is  of  varying  degrees  of  hardness.  The  lowest 
and  oldest  is  so  firm  and  compact  that  it  still  furnishes, 
as  it  used  to  do,  materials  for  building ;  the  foundations 
of  the  city,  the  wall  of  Romulus,  and  the  massive  blocks 
on  which  the  Capitol  rests,  being  formed  of  this  sub- 
Stance.  Over  this  a  later  stratum  was  deposited  called 
^u/a  grmwlare^  consisting  of  a  similar  mechanical  con- 
glomerate of  scoriae,  ashes,  and  other  volcanic  products, 
but  more  porous  and  friable  in  texture.  It  is  in  this  last 
formation,  which  is  so  soft  that  it  can  be  easily  hollowed 
out,  and  yet  so  solid  that  it  does  not  crumble,  that  the 
Catacombs  are  invariably  found.  There  is  something 
that  appeals  strongly  to  the  imagination  in  the  fact  that 
the  early  Christians  should  have  formed  the  homes  of 
their  dead  and  the  haunts  of  their  faith  in  the  deposit 
of  the  terrible  volcano  and  the  stormy  sea !  The  out- 
bursts of  the  Alban  volcanoes  were  correlated  in  God's 
scheme  of  providence  with  the  outbursts  of  human  fury 
long  ages  afterwards;  and  the  one  was  prepared  as  a 
means  of  defence  from  the  other,  by  Him  who  maketh 
His  ministers  a  flaming  fire. 


The  Catacombs  were  specially  excavated  for  Christian 
burial, — tombs  beneath  the  tombs  of  the  Appian  Way. 
Unlike  the  pagans,  who  burned  the  bodies  of  their  dead, 
and  deposited,  as  we  have  seen,  the  ashes  in  cinerary 
urns  which  took  up  but  little  space,  the  Christians  buried 
the    bodies    of   their    departed    friends    in    rock-hewn 
sepulchres.     They  must  have  derived  this  custom  from 
the  Jewish  mode  of  interment ;  and  they  would  wish  to 
follow  in  this  the  example  of  their  Lord,  who  was  laid 
in  an  excavated  tomb.     Besides,  it  was  abhorrent  to 
their  feelings  to  burn  their  dead.     Their  religion  had 
taught  them  to  value  the  body,  which  is  an  integral  part 
of  human  nature,  and  has  its  own  share  in  the  redemption 
of  man.      Their  mode  of  sepulture  therefore   required 
larger  space ;  and  as  the  Christians  grew  and  multiplied, 
and  more  burials  took  place,  they  extended  the  subter- 
ranean passages  and  galleries  in  every  direction.     It  is 
computed  that  upwards  of  six  millions  of  the  bodies  of 
the  early  Christians  were  deposited  in  the  Catacombs. 
The  name  which  these   rock-hewn  sepulchres  first   re- 
ceived was  cetneteries^  places  of  sleep ;  for  the  Christians 
looked  upon  their  dead  as  only  asleep,  to  be  awakened 
by  the  trump  of  the  archangel  at  the  resurrection.     And 
being  used  as  burial-places,  the  Catacombs  became  the 
inalienable  property  of  the  Christians ;  for,  according  to 
Roman  law,  land  which  had  once  been  used  for  interment 
became  religiosus^  and  could  not  be  transferred  for  any 
other  purpose.     It  was   long  supposed   that   the  Cata- 
combs were  subsequently  made  use  of  as  places  of  abode, 
when  persecution  drove  the  Christians  to  seek  the  lone- 
liest spots  ;  but  this  idea  has  been  dispelled  by  a  more 
careful  examination  of  them.     There  can  be  no  doubt, 
however,  that  they  were  employed  as  places  of  religious 
meeting.      Numerous  inscriptions  found  in  them  touch- 
ingly  record  that  no  Christian  worship  could  be  performed 
in  the  imperial  city  without  the  risk  of  discovery  and 
death  ;  and  therefore  the  members  of  the  Christian  flock 
were  obliged  to  meet  for  worship  in  these  dreary  vaults. 


I 


56 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


The  passages  in  some  places  were  expanded  into  large 
chambers,  and  there  divine  service  was  performed ;  not 
only  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  came  to  bury  their 
dead,  but  also  for  those  who  resided  in  the  city,  and 
were  Christians  in  secret. 

Passing  from  the  roughly-paved  road  into  the  vine- 
yard where  the  Catacombs  of  St.  Calixtus  are  situated, 
the  first  objects  that  caught  my  eye  were  the  dark,  gaunt 
ruins  of  a  tomb  and  a  chapel  of  the  third  century,  now 
wreathed  and  garlanded  with  luxuriant  ivy.  Beside  these 
ruins  I  descended  into  the  Catacombs  by  an  ancient 
staircase,  at  the  foot  of  which  my  guide  provided  me 
with  a  long  twisted  wax  taper,  calculated  to  last  out  my 
visit.  A  short  distance  from  the  entrance,  I  came  to  a 
vestibule  surrounded  with  loculi  or  rock-hewn  graves. 
The  walls  were  plastered,  and  covered  with  rude  inscrip- 
tions, scratched  with  a  pointed  iron  instrument.  These 
were  done  by  pilgrims  and  devotees  in  later  ages,  who 
had  come  here — many  of  them  from  distant  lands — to 
pay  their  respects  at  the  graves  of  the  saints  and  martyrs. 
Two  of  these  pilgrims,  from  the  diocese  of  Salzburg, 
visited  these  Catacombs  in  the  eighth  century,  and  left 
behind  an  account  of  their  visit,  which  has  afforded  a 
valuable  clue  to  Cavaliere  de  Rossi  in  his  identification  of 
the  chambers  and  graves.  Passing  from  this  open  space, 
I  soon  reached  a  sepulchral  chapel,  lined  with  the  graves 
of  the  earliest  popes — many  of  them  martyrs — who  were 
buried  here  for  about  a  century,  from  the  year  200  to 
the  year  296  of  our  era.  The  gravestones  of  four  ot 
them  have  been  found,  with  inscriptions  in  Greek.  A 
beautiful  marble  tablet  by  Pope  Damasus,  who  died  in 
384,  stands  where  the  altar  of  the  chapel  originally 
stood,  and  records  the  praises  of  the  martyrs  whose  re- 
mains lay  in  the  neighbouring  chambers  ;  ending  with  a 
wish  that  he  himself  might  be  buried  beside  them,  only 
he  feared  that  he  was  unworthy  of  the  honour.  This 
good  Pope,  like  an  older  "  Old  Mortality,"  made  it  a 
labour   of  love,   to  which  he    consecrated   his  life,   to 


r 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


57 


rediscover  and  adorn  the  tombs  which  had  been  hidden 
under  an  accumulation  of  earth  and  rubbish  during  the 
fearful  persecution  of  Diocletian. 

From   this  chapel  of  the  Popes  I  came  through   a 
narrow  passage  to  a   wider   crypt,  where  the  body    of 
St.   Caecilia  was  laid  after  her  martyrdom  in  her  own 
house  in   Rome,   in  the  year   224.      There  is  a  rude 
painting  of  this  saint    on    the    wall,  clothed  with    rich 
raiment,  and  adorned  with  the  jewels  befitting  a  Roman 
lady  of  high  station.     And  at  the  back  of  a  niche,  where 
a  lamp  used  to  burn  before  the  shrine  of  the  saint,  is 
painted  a  large  head  of  our  Saviour,  with  rays  of  glory 
around  it  shaped  like  a  Greek  cross.     This  is  said  to  be 
the  oldest  representation  of  our  Lord  in  existence,  and 
from  it  all  our  conventional  portraits  have  been  taken. 
Doubts  have,  however,  been  thrown  upon  this  by  others, 
who  assert  that  all  the  paintings   in  this  chamber  are 
not    older   than    the   seventh    century.      After   this,    I 
wandered  on  after  my  guide  through  innumerable  narrow 
galleries  hewn  out  of  the  soft  reddish-brown   rock,  and 
opening   in    all    directions;    all   lined   with    horizontal 
cavities  for  corpses,  tier  above  tier,  in  which  once  were 
crowded   together   old   and  young,  —  soldiers,   martyrs, 
rich  and  poor  mingling  their  dust   together,  as  in  life 
they  had   shared  all   things  in   common.     Here    social 
distinctions    were    abolished;    side    by    side    with    the 
obscure  and   unknown   slave  were  some   of  the   most 
illustrious  names  of  ancient  Rome.     These  shelves  are 
now  empty,  for  nearly  all  the  bones  and  relics  of  the 
dead  have  been  removed  to  different  churches  through- 
out Europe.       Even  the  inscriptions  that  were   placed 
above  each  grave — on  marble  tablets — have  been  taken 
away,  and  now  line  the  walls  of  the  museums  of  St  John 
Lateran  and  the  Vatican.      A  few,  however,  remain  in 
their  place ;  and  I  know  nothing  more  affecting  than  the 
study  of  these.      For  the  most  part,  they  are  very  short, 
containing  only  the  name  and  date  ;  sometimes  only  an 
initial  letter  or  a  rudely-drawn  cross,  indicating  that  it 


f 


58 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


was  a  time  of  sore  trial,  when  such  hurried  obsequies 
were  all  that  the  imminent  danger  allowed.  Sometimes 
I  came  upon  a  larger  record — such  as,  "  Thou  sleepest 
sweetly  in  God  ;  "  "  In  the  sleep  of  peace." 

But  the  most  touching  of  all  the  inscriptions  were 
those  which  were  scratched  rudely  in  a  few  places  on 
the  walls  by  visitors  to  the  tombs  of  their  fellow-Chris- 
tians. The  survivors  came  often  to  weep  over  the  relics 
of  the  dead.  Here  a  husband  records  the  virtues  of  a 
beloved  wife ;  there,  a  son  invokes  the  precious  memory 
of  a  pious  father  or  mother ;  and  all  of  them  express 
their  calm  resignation  and  unshaken  hope.  One  inscrip- 
tion especially  struck  me.  It  was  very  rude,  and  almost 
obliterated,  for  seventeen  hundred  years  had  passed  over 
it  It  was  a  husband's  lamentation  over  a  dead  wife : 
"O  Sophronia  !  dear  Sophronia  !  thou  mayest  Hve? — 
Thou  shall  live  !  "  How  eloquently  did  that  rough, 
faded  scrawl,  over  a  long-forgotten  grave,  speak  of  the 
human  fear  that  perhaps  his  wife  was  lost  to  him  for 
ever — "  Thou  mayest  live  ?  "  and  of  the  noble  faith  that 
triumphed  over  it — "  Thou  shalt  live  !  "  Nothing  affects 
and  astonishes  one  more  in  these  inscriptions  than  this 
calm,  assured  confidence  that  death  was  but  a  profound 
sleep, — a  rest  unspeakably  grateful  after  such  a  weary 
life  of  awful  suffering, — and  that  they  should  see  their 
beloved  ones  again.  It  was  a  literal  realisation  of  the 
words  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  :  "  And  others  were 
tortured,  not  accepting  deliverance ;  that  they  might 
obtain  a  better  resurrection,"  They  surrendered  all 
that  life  holds  dear,  and  life  itself,  from  loyalty  to  the 
God  of  truth,  knowing  whom  they  had  believed,  and 
persuaded  that  He  would  keep  that  which  they  had 
committed  to  Him  against  the  great  day.  They  made 
their  family  ties  so  loyal  and  sacred,  that  their  human 
love,  in  the  higher  love  of  Christ  Jesus,  endured  for  ever- 
more. In  many  of  the  crypts,  the  emblems  of  martyrdom 
are  roughly  denoted  by  a  sword,  an  axe,  or  by  faggots  and 
fire.     What  sorrowful  scenes  must  have  taken  place  in 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


59 


these  dreary  passages,  as  the  mangled  forms  of  parent, 
child,  brother,  or  friend  were  stealthily  brought  in  from 
the  bloody  games  in  the  Flavian  amphitheatre,  or  from 
the  cruel  tortures  of  the  prison-house,  to  their  last  dark, 
narrow  home  along  the  very  path  I  was  now  treading  ! 

A  number  of  rude  paintings  ornament  the  walls  of 
the  chapels,  which  repeat  over  and  over  again  the  simple 
symbols  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  the  touching  stories 
of  the  Bible.  The  ark  of  Noah ;  Daniel  in  the  lions* 
den ;  the  miracle  of  Cana  ;  the  raising  of  Lazarus — are 
among  the  most  common  of  these  frescoes.  And  they 
are  deeply  interesting,  as  showing  that  down  in  these 
dim  and  dreary  vaults,  which  presented  such  a  remark- 
able contrast  to  the  lovely  violet  sky  and  the  grand  archi- 
tectural magnificence  above  ground,  among  men  who 
cared  little  for  the  things  of  time  and  sense,  because  life 
itself  had  not  a  moment's  security,  were  nevertheless 
nourished  thoughts  of  ideal  beauty  and  unearthly  grandeur, 
which  afterwards  yielded  such  glorious  fruit  in  the  Chris- 
tian art  of  Italy.  The  frescoes  of  the  Catacombs  are  the 
feeble  beginnings  of  an  artistic  inspiration  which  cul- 
minated in  the  "  Last  Supper "  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci, 
and  the  "  Transfiguration  "  of  Raphael. 

The  anchor  of  hope,  the  olive-branch  of  peace,  and 
the  palm-branch  as  the  sign  of  victory  and  martyrdom, 
were  seen  everywhere.  The  fish,  whose  Greek  name  is 
formed  by  the  initial  letters  of  the  titles  of  our  Lord, 
was  carved  on  the  marble  tablets  and  sarcophagi  as  the 
anagram  of  the  Saviour ;  and  an  Orante,  or  female  figure 
praying,  was  represented  as  the  symbol  of  the  Church. 
The  most  common  of  all  the  figures,  however,  was  that 
of  the  Good  Shepherd  carrying  the  lost  sheep  on  His 
shoulders,  or  leaning  on  His  staff  while  the  sheep  were 
feeding  around  Him.  And  a  most  touching  figure  it  is, 
when  we  think  of  the  circumstances  of  those  who  carved 
or  painted  it  in  these  gloomy  aisles.  It  was  into  no 
green  pastures,  and  beside  no  still  waters,  that  the  Good 
Shepherd  led  His  flock  in  those  awful  days,  but  into 


6o 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


waste  and  howling  wildernesses,  where  their  feet  were 
bruised  by  the  hard  stones,  and  their  flesh  torn  by 
the  sharp  thorns,  and  all  the  storms  of  the  world  beat 
fiercely  upon  them.  But  still  He  was  their  Good 
Shepherd,  and  in  the  wilderness  He  spread  a  table  for 
them,  and  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  they 
feared  no  evil,  for  He  was  with  them,  and  His  rod  and 
staff  comforted  them. 

I  wish  I  could  express  adequately  the  emotions 
which  filled  my  breast  while  wandering  through  these 
Catacombs.  Save  for  the  feeble  glimmer  of  my  own 
and  the  guide's  lamp,  I  was  in  total  darkness, — a  dark- 
ness that  might  be  felt.  Not  a  sound  broke  the  awful 
silence  except  the  echo  of  our  footsteps  in  the  hollow 
passages.  Not  a  trace  or  a  recollection  of  life  recalled 
me  from  the  thought  of  absolute  impenetrable  death 
around.  Each  passage  seemed  so  like  the  other,  and 
the  ramifications  were  so  endless  and  bewildering,  that 
but  for  the  presence  of  my  guide  I  should  inevitably 
have  lost  myself  Horrible  stories  of  persons  who  had 
gone  astray  in  the  inextricable  maze,  and  wandering 
about  in  the  empty  gloom  till  they  perished  of  exhaustion 
and  starvation,  recurred  to  my  mind ;  and  my  imagina- 
tion, intensified  by  the  silence  and  darkness,  vividly 
realised  their  suff'erings.  There  is  indeed  no  chill  or 
damp  in  these  labyrinths,  and  the  atmosphere  is  mild  and 
pleasant,  but  still  the  gloom  was  most  oppressive.  And 
yet  a  deep  gratitude  fills  the  soul;  for  the  light  there  shone 
in  darkness,  and  it  was  this  very  darkness  that  preserved 
our  religion,  when  it  ran  the  risk  of  being  extinguished. 
These  fearful  subterranean  passages  were  the  furrows  in 
which  were  planted  the  first  germs  of  the  Christian 
religion, — in  which  they  were  long  guarded  in  persecution 
as  the  seed-corn  under  the  frost-bound  earth  in  winter, 
to  spring  up  afterwards  when  summer  smiled  upon  the 
world,  and  yield  a  glorious  harvest  to  all  nations. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  Appian  Way,  in  a  vine- 
yard, is  the  Catacomb  of  Pretextatus,  which  is  almost  as 


r 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


6i 


extensive  as  that  of  St.  Calixtus,  and  hardly  less  interest- 
ing. It  is  especially  remarkable  for  a  large  square  crypt, 
inlaid  with  brick  and  plaster,  and  covered  with  very  fine 
frescoes  and  arabesques  of  birds  and  foliage.  The  bodies 
of  St.  Januarius,  Agapetus,  and  Felicissimus,  who  suffered 
martyrdom  in  the  year  162,  were  interred  in  this  Cata- 
comb ;  and  two  churches,  at  a  subsequent  period,  were 
erected  over  it  in  honour  of  the  three  saints  who  suffered 
martyrdom  with  St.  Caecilia.  Recent  explorations  have 
brought  to  light,  in  a  separate  part  of  this  Catacomb, 
curious  paintings  and  inscriptions  which  have  been  referred 
to  the  mysteries  of  Mithras — an  Oriental  worship  of  the 
Sun — introduced  into  Rome  about  a  century  before 
Christ,  and  which  was  celebrated  in  caves.  When 
Christianity  became  popular,  and  was  threatening  the 
overthrow  of  polytheism,  an  attempt  was  made  to  counter- 
act its  influence  in  the  reign  of  Alexander  Severus,  who 
himself  came  from  the  East,  by  organising  this  worship. 
The  two  systems  of  religion  became,  therefore,  mixed  up 
together  for  a  while ;  and  hence  it  is  not  uncommon  to 
find  in  pagan  sepulchres  symbols  and  arrangements  of  a 
Christian  character,  and  in  Christian  Catacombs  Mithraic 
features.  The  funeral  monuments  of  those  who  were 
converted  to  Christianity  in  the  earliest  ages  of  the 
Church  indicated  the  transition  between  the  two  religions. 
We  find  upon  their  tombs  pagan  symbols,  which  ceased 
to  be  identified  with  pagan  worship,  and  became  mere 
conventional  ornaments.  We  have  other  evidences  along 
the  Appian  Way  of  the  eclectic  revival  of  paganism  at 
this  time.  When  alluding  to  the  classic  stream  of  the 
Almo,  I  spoke  of  the  associations  of  the  worship  of 
Cybele.  This  naturalistic  cult  was  introduced  from 
Phrygia,  and  its  orgiastic  rites  and  nameless  infamies 
had  a  horrible  fascination  for  an  age  of  decaying  faith. 
And  not  far  from  the  mounds  of  the  Horatii  and  Curiatii 
there  is  a  monument,  probably  of  the  age  of  Trajan,  with 
a  bas-relief  portrait,  dedicated  to  the  memory  of  one 
Usia  Prwia,  a  priestess  of  Isis ;  this  worship,  with  its 


63 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


n 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


63 


painful  initiations  and  splendid  ritual,  being  imported 
from  Egypt  in  the  second  century.  But  although  this 
Neo-paganism  appealed  more  to  the  passions  of  men  than 
the  sunny  humanistic  worship  of  older  times,  and  for  a 
time  inspired  the  most  frenzied  enthusiasm,  it  failed 
utterly  to  resuscitate  the  decaying  corpse  of  the  old 
religion.     Great  Pan  was  hopelessly  dead  ! 

At  a  short  distance  on  the  same  side  of  the  road  is  the 
Catacomb  of  Sts.  Nereus  and  Achilles,  which  contained 
the  remains  of  these  saints,  and  are  interesting  to  us  as 
the  most  ancient  Christian  cemetery  in  the  world.  The 
masonry  of  the  vestibule  is  in  the  best  style  of  Roman 
brickwork  ;  and  the  frescoes  on  its  walls,  representing 
Christ  and  His  apostles,  the  Good  Shepherd,  Orpheus, 
Elijah,  etc.,  indicate  a  period  of  high  artistic  taste.  This 
Catacomb  contains  the  oldest  representation  extant  of 
the  Virgin  and  Child  receiving  the  homage  of  the  Wise 
men  from  the  East,  supposed  to  date  from  the  end  of  the 
second  century,  and  was  often  made  use  of  in  support  of 
Roman  Mariolatry.  Several  days  might  be  profitably 
spent  by  the  antiquarian  in  investigating  the  contents  of 
the  different  tiers  of  galleries ;  while  the  geologist  would 
find  matter  for  interesting  speculation  in  the  partial 
intrusion  of  the  older  lithoid  tufa  here  and  there  into 
the  softer  and  more  recent  volcanic  deposits  in  which 
the  passages  are  excavated,  and  in  which  numerous 
decomposing  crystals  of  leucite  may  be  observed.  On 
the  same  side  of  the  way,  farther  on,  is  the  Jewish 
Catacomb,  the  tombs  of  which  bear  Jewish  symbols, 
especially  the  seven-branched  golden  candlestick,  and  are 
inscribed,  not  with  the  secular  names  and  occupations  of 
the  occupants,  but  with  their  sacred  names,  as  office- 
bearers of  the  synagogue,  rulers,  scribes,  etc.  The 
inscriptions  are  not  in  Hebrew,  but  in  Greek  letters.  It 
is  supposed  that  in  this  Catacomb  were  interred  the 
bodies  of  the  Jews  who  were  banished  to  the  valley  of 
Egeria  by  Domitian. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  beyond  the  Catacombs  you 


come  to  a  descent,  where  there  is  a  wide  open  space 
with  a  pillar  in  the  centre,  and  behind  it  the  natural 
rock  of  a  peculiarly  glowing  red  colour,  overgrown  with 
masses  of  ivy,  wall-flower,  and  hawthorn  just  coming  into 
blossom.      Below  the  road,   on  the  right,   is  a  kind  of 
piazza,  shaded  by  a  grove  of  funereal  cypresses  ;  and  here 
is  the  church  of  St.  Sebastian,  one  of  the  seven  great 
basilicas  which  pilgrims  visited  to  obtain  the  remission  of 
their  sins.     It  was  founded  by  Constantine,  on  the  site 
of  the  house  and  garden  of  the  pious  widow  Lucina,  who 
buried  there  the  body  of  St.  Sebastian  after  his  martyrdom. 
This  saint  was  a  Gaulish  soldier  in  the  Roman  army, 
who,  professing  Christianity,  was  put  to  death  by  order  of 
Diocletian.     The  body  of  the  saint  is  said   to   repose 
under  one  of  the  altars,  marked  by  a  marble  statue  of  him 
lying  dead,  pierced  with  silver  arrows,  designed  by  Ber- 
nini.    The  present  edifice  was  entirely  rebuilt  by  Cardinal 
Scipio  Borghese ;   and  nothing  remains  of  the  ancient 
basilica  save  the  six  granite  columns  of  the  portico,  which 
were  in  all  likelihood  taken  from  some  old  pagan  temple. 
It  was  from  the  nave  of  this  church  that  the  only  Cata- 
comb which  used  to  be  visited  by  pilgrims  was  entered ; 
all  the  other  Catacombs  which  have  since  been  opened 
being  at  that  time  blocked  up  and  unknown.      Indeed  it 
was  to  the  subterranean  galleries  under  this  church  that 
the  name  of  Catacomb  was  originally  applied. 

In  the  valley  beneath  St.  Sebastian,  on  the  left,  is  a 
large  enclosure,  covered  with  the  greenest  turf,  and 
reminding  one  more,  by  its  softness  and  compactness, 
of  an  English  park  than  anything  I  had  seen  about 
Rome.  Here  are  the  magnificent  ruins  of  what  was 
long  known  as  the  Circus  of  Caracalla ;  but  later  investi- 
gations have  proved  that  the  circus  was  erected  in  honour 
of  Romulus,  the  son  of  the  Emperor  Maxentius,  in  the 
year  311.  It  is  the  best  preserved  of  all  the  ancient 
Roman  circuses,  and  affords  an  excellent  clue  to  the 
arrangements  of  such  places  for  chariot  races  and  the 
accommodation  of  the  spectators.     The  external  walls  run 


,! 


64 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


on  un])roken  for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  In  many 
places  the  vaults  supporting  the  seats  still  remain.  The 
spina  in  the  centre  marking  the  course  of  the  races,  on 
either  end  of  which  stood  the  two  Egyptian  obelisks 
which  now  adorn  the  Piazza  Navona  and  the  Piazza  del 
Popolo,  though  grass-grown,  can  be  easily  defined ;  and 
the  towers  flanking  the  extremities,  where  the  judges  sat, 
and  the  triumphal  gate  through  which  the  victors  passed, 
are  almost  entire.  It  would  not  be  difficult,  with  sucli 
aids  to  the  imagination,  to  conjure  up  the  splendid 
games  that  used  to  take  place  within  that  vast  enclosure  ; 
the  chariots  of  green,  blue,  white,  and  red  driving  furi- 
ously seven  times  round  the  course,  the  emperor  and  all 
his  nobles  sitting  in  the  places  of  honour,  looking  on 
with  enthusiasm,  and  the  victor  coming  in  at  the  goal, 
and  the  shouts  and  exclamations  of  the  excited  multitude. 
On  the  elevated  ground  behind  the  circus  is  a  fringe  of 
olive-trees,  with  a  line  of  feathery  elms  beyond;  and 
rising  over  all,  the  purple  background  of  the  Sabine  and 
Alban  hills.  It  is  a  lonely  enough  spot  now ;  and  the 
gentle  hand  of  spring  clothes  the  naked  walls  with  a 
perfect  garden  of  wild  flowers,  and  softens  with  the 
greenest  and  tenderest  turf  the  spots  trodden  by  the  feet 
of  so  many  thousands.  In  the  immediate  vicinity  of 
the  circus  are  extensive  ruins,  visible  and  prominent 
objects  from  the  road,  consisting  of  large  fragments  of 
walls  and  apses,  dispersed  among  the  vineyards   and 

enclosures. 

By  far  the  best-known  monument  on  the  Appian  Way 
is  the  Tomb  of  Csecilia  Metella.  It  is  a  conspicuous 
landmark  in  the  wide  waste,  and  catches  the  eye  at  a 
long  distance  from  many  points  of  view.  It  is  as  familiar 
a  feature  in  paintings  of  the  Campagna  almost  as  the 
Claudian  Aqueduct.  This  celebrity  it  owes  to  its 
immense  size,  its  wonderful  state  of  preservation,  and 
above  all  to  the  genius  of  Lord  Byron,  who  has  made  it 
the  theme  of  some  of  the  most  elegant  and  touching 
stanzas  in   Childe  Harold.     Nothing  can  be  finer  than 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


65 


the  appearance  of  this  circular  tower  in  the  afternoon, 
when  the  red  level  light  of  sunset,  striking  full  upon  it, 
brings  out  the  rich  warm  glow  of  its  yellow  travertine 
stones  in  striking  relief  against  the  monotonous  green  of 
the  Campagna.  It  is  built  on  a  portion  of  rising  ground 
caused  by  a  current  of  lava  which  descended  from  the 
Alban  volcano  during  some  pre -historic  eruption,  and 
stopped  short  here,  forming  the  quarries  on  the  left  side 
of  the  road  which  supply  most  of  the  paving-stone  of 
modern  Rome.  The  Appian  Way  was  here  lowered 
several  feet  below  the  original  level,  in  order  to  diminish 
the  acclivity;  and  the  mausoleum  was  consequently  raised 
upon  a  substructure  of  unequal  height  corresponding  with 
the  inclination  of  the  plane  of  ascent.  It  was  originally 
cased  with  marble  slabs,  but  these  were  stripped  off  during 
the  middle  ages  for  making  lime ;  and  Pope  Clement 
XII.  completed  the  devastation  by  removing  large  blocks 
which  formed  the  basement,  in  order  to  construct  the 
picturesque  fountain  of  Trevi.  A  large  portion  of  the 
Doric  marble  frieze,  however,  still  remains,  on  which 
are  sculptured  bas-reliefs  of  rams'  heads,  festooned  with 
garlands  of  flowers.  Usually  the  bas-reliefs  are  supposed 
to  represent  bulls'  heads  ;  and  the  name  of  Capo  de  Bove 
(the  "  head  of  the  ox "),  by  which  the  monument  has 
long  been  known  to  the  common  people,  is  said  to  be 
derived  from  these  ornaments.  But  a  careful  examina- 
tion will  convince  any  one  that  they  are  in  reality  rams' 
heads ;  and  the  vulgar  name  of  the  tomb  was  obviously 
borrowed  from  the  armorial  bearings  of  the  Gaetani 
family,  consisting  of  an  ox's  head,  affixed  prominently 
upon  it  when  it  served  them  as  a  fortress  in  the  thirteenth 
century.  Pope  Boniface  VIII.,  a  member  of  this  family, 
added  the  curious  battlements  at  the  top,  which  seem  so 
slight  and  airy  in  comparison  with  the  severe  solidity  of 
the  rest  of  the  structure,  and  are  but  a  poor  substitute 
for  the  massive  conical  roof  which  originally  covered  the 
tomb.  Nature  has  done  her  utmost  for  nigh  two  thou- 
sand years  to  bring  back  this  monument   to  her  own 


66 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


bosom,  but  she  has  been  foiled  in  all  her  attempts, — 
the  travertine  blocks  of  its  exterior,  though  fitted  to  each 
other  without  cement,  being  as  smooth  and  even  in  their 
courses  of  masonry  as  when  first  constructed,  and  almost 
as  free  from  weather-stains  as  if  they  had  newly  been 
taken  from  the  quarry.  Only  on  the  broad  summit, 
where  medieval  Vandals  broke  down  the  noble  pile  and 
desecrated  it  by  their  own  inferior  workmanship,  has 
nature  been  able  to  effect  a  lodgment ;  and  in  the 
breaches  of  this  fortress,  which  is  but  a  thing  of  yesterday 
as  compared  with  the  monument,  and  yet  is  far  more 
ruinous,  she  has  planted  bushes,  trees,  and  thick  festoons 
of  ivy,  as  if  laying  her  quiet  finger  upon  the  angry 
passions  of  man,  and  obliterating  the  memory  of  his  evil 
deeds  by  her  own  fair  and  smiling  growth. 

The  sepulchral  vault  in  the  interior  was  not  opened 
till  the  time  of  Paul  III.,  about  1540,  ^vhen  a  beautiful 
marble  sarcophagus,  adorned  with  bas-reliefs  of  the  chase, 
was  found  in  it,  which  is  supposed  to  be  that  which 
stands  at  the  present  day  in  the  court  of  the  Palazzo 
Farnese.  This  is  likely  to  be  true,  for  it  is  well  known 
that  this  Pope,  who  was  a  member  of  the  Farnese  family, 
unscrupulously  despoiled  ancient  Rome  of  many  of  its 
finest  works  of  art  in  order  to  build  and  adorn  his  new 
palace.  A  golden  urn  containing  ashes  is  said  to  have 
been  discovered  at  the  same  time  ;  but  if  so,  it  has  long 
since  disappeared.  On  a  marble  panel  below  the  frieze  an 
inscription  in  bold  letters  informs  us  that  this  is  the  tomb 
of  Csecilia  Metella,  daughter  of  Quintus  Metellus, — who 
obtained  the  sobriquet  of  Creticus  for  his  conquest  of 
Crete, — and  wife  of  Crassus.  She  belonged  to  one  of  the 
most  haughty  aristocratic  families  of  ancient  Rome,  whose 
members  at  successive  intervals  occupied  the  highest 
positions  in  the  state,  and  several  of  whom  were  decreed 
triumphs  by  the  senate  on  account  of  their  success  in 
war.  Her  husband  was  surnamed  Dives  on  account  of 
his  enormous  wealth.  He  is  said  to  have  possessed  a 
fortune  equal  to  a  million  and  a  half  pounds  sterling ; 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


^1 


' 


and  to  have  given  an  entertainment  to  the  whole  Roman 
people  in  a  time  of  scarcity,  besides  distributing  to  each 
family  a  quantity  of  corn  sufficient  to  last  three  months. 
Along  with  Julius  Caisar  and  Pompey,  he  formed  the 
famous  first  Triumvirate.  While  the  richest,  he  seems, 
notwithstanding  the  above-mentioned  act  of  munificence, 
to  have  been  one  of  the  meanest  of  the  Romans.  He 
had  no  steady  political  principle ;  he  was  actuated  by 
bitter  jealousy  towards  his  colleagues  and  rivals ;  and 
that  unsuccessful  expedition  which  he  undertook  against 
the  Parthians,  in  flagrant  violation  of  a  treaty  made  with 
them  by  Sulla  and  renewed  by  Pompey,  and  which  has 
stamped  his  memory  with  incapacity  and  shame,  was 
prompted  by  an  insatiable  greed  for  the  riches  of  the 
East.  On  the  field  he  occupied  himself  entirely  in 
amassing  fresh  treasures,  while  his  troops  were  neglected. 
The  manner  of  his  death,  after  the  defeat  and  loss  of 
the  greater  part  of  his  army,  was  characteristic  of  his 
ruling  passion.  Tempted  to  seek  an  interview  with  the 
Parthian  general  by  the  offer  of  the  present  of  a  horse 
with  splendid  trappings,  he  was  cut  down  when  in  the 
act  of  mounting  into  the  saddle.  His  body  was  con- 
temptuously buried  in  some  obscure  spot  by  the  enemy, 
and  his  hands  and  head  were  sent  to  the  king,  who 
received  the  ghastly  trophies  while  seated  at  the  nuptial 
feast  of  his  daughter,  and  ordered  in  savage  irony  molten 
gold  to  be  poured  down  the  severed  throat,  exclaiming, 
"Sate  thyself  now  with  the  metal  of  which  in  life  thou 
wert  so  fond." 

There  is  one  incident  connected  with  this  most 
disastrous  campaign  upon  which  the  imagination  loves 
to  dwell.  Publius,  the  younger  son  of  Crassus,  born  of 
the  woman  who  lay  in  this  tomb  before  us,  after  earning 
great  distinction  in  Gaul  as  Caisar's  legate,  accompanied 
his  father  to  the  East,  and  was  much  beloved  on  account 
of  his  noble  qualities  and  his  feats  of  bravery  against 
the  enemy.  While  endeavouring  to  repulse  the  last 
fierce  charge  of  the  Parthians,  he  was  wounded  severely 


68 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


by  an  arrow,  and  finding  himself  unable  to  extricate  his 
troops,  rather  than  desert  them  he  ordered  his  sword- 
bearer  to  slay  him.     When  the  news  of  his  son's  fall 
reached  the  aged  father,  the  old  Roman  spirit  blazed 
up  for  a  moment  in  him,  and  he  exhorted  his  soldiers 
"  not  to  be  disheartened  by  a  loss  that  concerned  him- 
self only."     In  this  last  triumph  of  a  nobler  nature  he 
disappears  from  our  view ;  and  he  who  built  this  mag- 
nificent  monument  to  the  mother  of  his  gallant   son 
had  himself  no  monument.     More  fortunate  than  her 
husband,  whose  evil  manners  live  in  brass,— less  for- 
tunate than  her  son,  whose  virtues  have  been  handed 
down  for  the  admiration  of  posterity,— Cnecilia  Metella 
has  left  no  record  of  her  existence  beyond  her  name. 
All  else  has  been  swallowed  up  by  the  oblivion  of  ages. 
Whether  her  husband  raised  this  colossal  trophy  of  the 
dust  to  commemorate  his  own  pride  of  wealth,  or  his 
devoted  love  for  her,  we  know  not.     He  achieved  his 
object ;  but  he  has  given  to  his  wife  only  the  mockery 
of  immortality.     The  substance  has  gone  beyond  recall, 
and  but  the  shadow,  the  mere  empty  name,  remains. 

Built  up  against  this  monument  are  the  remains  of 
the  castle  in  which  the  Gaetani  family  long  maintained 
their  feudal  warfare,  with  fragments  of  marble  sculpture 
taken  from  the  tomb  incorporated  into  the  plain  brick 
walls.  And  on  the  other  side  of  the  road,  in  a  beautiful 
meadow,  covered  with  soft  green  grass,  are  the  ruins  of 
a  roofless  Gothic  chapel,  showing  little  more  than  a  few 
bare  walls  and  gables  built  of  dark  lava  stones,  with 
traces  of  pointed  windows  in  them,  and  the  sprmg  of 
the  groined  arches  of  the  roof  Like  the  fortress,  the 
chapel  has  few  or  no  architectural  features  of  interest. 
It  is  very  unlike  any  other  church  in  Italy,  and  reminds 
one  of  the  country  churches  of  England  What  led  the 
Gaetanis  to  adopt  this  foreign  style  of  ecclesiastical 
architecture  is  a  circumstance  unexplained.  Altogether 
it  is  a  most  incongruous  group  of  objects  that  are  here 
clustered  together— a  tomb,  a  fortress,  and  a  church— 


n 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


69 


and  affords  a  curious  illustration  of  the  bizarre  condition 
of  society  at  the  time.  An  extraordinary  echo  repeats 
here  every  sound  entrusted  to  it  with  the  utmost  distinct- 
ness. It  doubtless  multiplied  the  wailings  of  the  mourners 
who  brought  to  this  spot  two  thousand  years  ago  the 
ashes  of  the  dead ;  it  sent  back  the  rude  sounds  of  war- 
fare which  disturbed  the  peace  of  the  tomb  in  the  middle 
ages ;  and  now  it  haunts  the  spot  like  the  voice  of  the 
past,  "informing  the  solitude,"  and  giving  a  response  to 
each  new-comer  according  to  his  mood. 

Beyond  the  tomb  of  Cascilia  Metella  the  Appian  Way 
becomes  more  interesting  and  beautiful.  The  high  walls 
which  previously  shut  in  the  road  on  either  side  now 
disappear,  and  nothing  separates  it  from  the  Campagna 
but  a  low  dyke  of  loose  stones.  The  traveller  obtains 
an  uninterrupted  view  of  the  immense  melancholy  plain, 
which  stretches  away  to  the  horizon  with  hardly  a  single 
tree  to  relieve  the  desolation.  Here  and  there  on  the 
waste  surface  are  fragments  of  ruins  which  speak  to  the 
heart,  by  their  very  muteness,  more  suggestively  than  if 
their  historical  associations  were  fully  known.  The 
mystic  light  from  a  sky  which  over  this  place  seems 
ever  to  brood  with  a  sad  smile  more  touching  than 
tears,  falls  upon  the  endless  arches  of  the  Claudian 
Aqueduct  that  remind  one,  as  Ruskin  has  finely  said,  of 
a  funeral  procession  departing  from  a  nation's  grave. 
The  afternoon  sun  paints  them  with  ruby  splendours, 
and  gleams  vividly  upon  the  picturesque  vegetation  which 
a  thousand  springs  have  sown  upon  their  crumbling 
sides.  They  lead  the  eye  on  to  the  Alban  Hills,  which 
form  on  the  horizon  a  fitting  frame  to  the  great  picture, 
tender-toned,  with  delicate  pearly  and  purple  shadows 
clothing  every  cliff  and  hollow,  like  "  harmonies  of  music 
turned  to  shape." 

I  shall  never  forget  my  first  walk  over  this  enchanted 
ground.  The  day  was  warm  and  bright,  though  a  little 
breeze,  like  the  murmur  of  a  child's  sleep,  occasionally 
stirred  the  languid  calm.     April  had  just  come  in ;  but 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


70 

in  this  Southern  dime  spring,  having  no  storms  or  frosts 
to  fear  lingers  in  a  strange  way  and  unfolds,  with  slow, 
patfen^  ten'derness,  her  beauties  ;  not  like  our  Northern 
spring,  which  rushes  to  verdure  and  bloom  as  soon  as 
the  winter  snows  have  disappeared.     And  hence,  though 
the  few  trees  along  the  road  had  only  put  forth  their 
nrst  leaves,  tender  and  flaccid  as  butterOys  wmgs,  the 
grass  was  ready  to  be  cut  down  and  was  thickly  starred 
with  wild  flowers.    Horace  of  old  said  that  one  could  not 
travel  rapidly  along  the  Appian  Way,  on  account  of    he 
number  and  variety  of  its  objects  of  mterest ;  and  the 
same  remark  holds  good  at  the  present  day      It  would 
take  months  to  go  over  in  detail  all  its  wonderful  relics 
of  the  past.     At  every  step  you  are  arrested  by  some- 
thing  that   opens   up   a  fascinating  vista   into   the   old 
family  life  of  the  imperial  city.     At  every  step  you     set 
your  foot  upon  some  reverend  history."     From  morning 
to  sunset  I  lingered  on  this  haunted  path,  and  tried  to 
enter   into   sympathy  with  old-world  sorrows  that  have 
left  behind  no  chronicles  save  these  silent  stones.     It 
is  indeed  a  path  sacred  to  meditation  !     One  has  there 
an  overpowering  sense  of  waste-a  depressing  feeling  of 
vanity      On  every  side  are  innumerable  tokens  of  a  vast 
expenditure  of  human  toil,  and  love,  and  sorrow ;  and  it 
seems  as  if  it  had  been  all  thrown  away.     For  two  miles 
and  a  half  from  the  tomb  of  Camellia  Metella  I  counted 
fiftv-three  tombs  on  the  right  and  forty-eight  on  the  left 
The  margin  of  the  road  on  either  side  is  strewn  with 
fragments  of  hewn   marble,   travertine,   and    pepermo. 
Broken  tablets,  retaining  a  few  letters  of  the  epitaphs 
of  the  dead  ;  mutilated  statues  and  alto-relievos ;  drums 
and  capitals  of  pillars ;  a  hand  or  a  foot,  or  a  fold  ot 
marble  draperv, -every  form  and  variety  of  sculpture 
the  mere  crumbs  that  had  fallen  from  a  profuse  feast  of 
artistic  beauty,  which  nobody  considers  it  worth  while  to 
pick  up,  lie  mouldering  among  the  grass.     At  frequen 
intervals,  facing  the  road,  you  see  with  mournful  interes 
the  exposed  interiors  of  tombs,  showing  that  beautiful 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


71 


and  curious  opus  rcticulatum^  or  reticulated  arrangement 
of  bricks  or  tufa  blocks,  which  is  so  characteristic  of  the 
imperial  period,  and  rows  upon  rows  of  neat  pigeon- 
holes in  the  brickwork,  which  contained  the  cinerary 
urns,  all  robbed  of  their  treasures,  their  tear-bottles,  and 
even  their  bones.  Ruthless  popes  and  princes  have 
done  their  best  during  all  the  intervening  ages  to 
destroy  the  monuments  by  taking  away  for  their  own 
uses  the  marble  and  hewn  stone  which  encased  them, 
leaving  behind  only  the  inner  core  of  brick  and  small 
stones  imbedded  in  mortar  which  was  never  meant  to 
be  seen.  Pitying  hands  have  lately  endeavoured  to 
atone  for  this  desecration  by  hfting  here  and  there  out 
of  the  rubbish  heap  on  which  they  were  thrown  some 
affecting  group  of  family  portraits,  some  choice  specimens 
of  delicate  architecture,  some  mutilated  panel  on  which 
the  stern  hard  features  of  a  Roman  senator  look  out 
upon  you,  and  placing  them  in  a  prominent  position  to 
attract  attention.  But  though  they  have  endeavoured 
to  build  up  the  fragments  of  the  tombs  into  some 
semblance  of  their  former  appearance,  the  resuscitation 
is  even  more  melancholy  than  was  the  former  ruin. 
Their  efforts  at  restoration  are  only  the  very  graves  of 
graves.  In  some  places  a  side  path  leading  off  the  main 
road  to  a  tomb  has  been  uncovered,  paved  with  the 
original  lava-blocks  as  fresh  as  when  the  last  mourner 
retired  from  it,  casting  "  a  lingering  look  behind ; "  but 
it  leads  now  only  to  a  shapeless  heap  of  brick,  or  to 
the  empty  site  of  a  monument  that  has  been  razed  to 
the  very  foundations. 

One  piece  of  marble  sculpture  especially  arrests  the 
eye,  and  awakens  a  chord  of  feeling  in  the  most  callous 
heart.  It  represents  one  of  those  Imagines  CHpeatcB 
which  the  ancient  Romans  were  so  fond  of  sculpturing 
in  their  temples  or  upon  their  tombs ;  a  clam  shell  or 
shield  with  the  bust  of  a  man  and  a  woman  carved  in 
relief  within  it,  the  hand  of  the  one  fondly  embracing 
the  neck  of  the  other.     Below  is  a  long  Latin  inscription, 


72 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


73 


telling  that  this  is  the  tomb  of  a  brother  and  sister  who 
were  devotedly  attached  to  each  other.  Who  this 
soror  and  frater  were,  there  is  no  record  to  tell.  All 
subsidiary  details  of  their  lives  have  been  allowed  to 
pass  away  with  the  other  decorations  of  the  tomb,  leaving 
behind  this  beautiful  expression  of  household  affection 
in  full  and  lasting  relief.  I  felt  drawn  more  closely  to 
the  distant  ages  by  this  little  carving  than  by  anything 
else.  The  huge  monuments  around  weighed  down  my 
spirit  to  the  earth.  The  very  effort  to  secure  immort- 
ality by  the  massiveness  of  these  tombs  defeated  its 
own  object.  They  spoke  only  of  dust  to  dust  and 
ashes  to  ashes ;  but  that  little  glimpse  into  the  simple 
love  of  simple  hearts  in  the  far-off  past  lifted  me  above 
all  the  decays  of  the  sepulchre.  It  assured  me  that  our 
deepest  heart-affections  are  the  helpers  of  our  highest 
hopes,  and  the  instinctive  guarantees  of  a  life  to  come. 
Love  creates  its  own  immortality  ;  for  *'  love  is  love  for 

evermore." 

Along  this  avenue  of  death  nothing  can  be  more 
striking  than  the  profusion  of  life.  It  seems  as  if  all  the 
vitality  of  the  many  buried  generations  had  there  passed 
into  the  fuller  life  of  nature.  You  can  trace  the  street 
of  tombs  into  the  far  distance,  not  only  by  the  ruins 
that  line  it  on  both  sides,  but  also  by  its  borders  of 
grass  of  a  darker  green  and  greater  luxuriance  than  the 
pale,  short,  sickly  verdure  of  the  Campagna;  just  as 
you  can  trace  the  course  of  a  moorland  stream  along 
the  heather  by  the  brighter  vegetation  which  its  own 
waters  have  created.  Myriads  of  flowers  gleam  in  their 
own  atmosphere  of  living  light,  like  jewels  among  the 
rich  herbage,  so  that  the  feet  can  hardly  be  set  down 
without  crushing  scores  of  them  :  the  On/iis  rubra 
with  its  splendid  spike  of  crimson  blossoms,  the  bee  and 
spider  orchises  in  great  variety,  whose  flowers  mimic  the 
insects  after  whom  they  are  named,  sweet-scented 
alyssum,  golden  buttercups  and  hawkweeds,  Roman 
daisies,  larger  and  taller  than  the  English  ones,  with  the 


bold  wide-eyed  gaze  you  see  in  the  Roman  peasant- 
girls,  scarlet  poppies  glowing  in  a  sunshine  of  their  own, 
like  flames  in  the  heart  of  a  furnace,  vetches  bright 
azure  and  pale  yellow,  dark  blue  hyacinths,  pink 
geraniums,  and  "  moonlit  spires  of  asphodel,"  suggestive 
of  the  flowery  fields  of  the  immortals.  My  footsteps 
along  the  dusty  road  continually  disturbed  serpents  that 
wriggled  away  in  long  ripples  of  motion  among  the  tall 
spears  of  the  grass ;  while  green  and  golden  lizards, 
sunning  themselves  on  the  hot  stones,  disappeared  into 
their  holes  with  a  quick  rustling  sound  at  my  approach. 
The  air  was  musical  with  a  perfect  chorus  of  larks, 
whose  jubilant  song  soared  above  all  sorrow  and  death 
to  heaven's  own  gate ;  and  now  and  then  a  tawny  hawk 
sailed  swiftly  across  the  horizon.  Huge  plants  of  gray 
mullein  towered  here  and  there  above  the  sward,  whose 
flannel-like  leaves  aff"orded  a  snug  shelter  to  great  quan- 
tities of  wasps  just  recovering  from  their  winter  torpor. 
On  the  very  tombs  themselves  there  was  a  lavish  adorn- 
ment of  vegetable  life :  snow-white  drifts  of  hawthorn 
and  honeysuckle  wreaths  waved  on  the  summits  of  those 
on  which  a  sufficient  depth  of  soil  had  lodged ;  the  wild 
dog-rose  spread  its  thorny  bushes  and  passionate- 
coloured  crimson  blooms  as  a  fence  around  others ;  and 
even  on  the  barest  of  them  nothing  could  exceed  the 
wealth  of  orange  lichens  that  redeemed  their  poverty 
and  gilded  their  nakedness  with  frescoes  of  fadeless 
beauty.  On  some  of  the  rugged  masses  of  masonry 
grew  large  hoary  tufts  of  the  strange  roccella  or  orchil- 
weed,  which  yields  the  famous  purple  dye — with  which, 
in  all  likelihood,  the  robes  of  the  Caesars  were  coloured 
— and  which  gave  wealth,  rank,  and  name  to  one 
princely  Italian  family,  the  Rucellai.  Over  the  desolate 
tombs  of  those  who  wore  the  imperial  purple,  this 
humble  lichen,  that  yielded  the  splendid  hue,  spread  its 
gray  hoar-frost  of  vegetation. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  solitude  of  the  Campagna; 
but  this  part  of  the  Appian  Way,  leading  through  it,  is 


_if 


74 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


exceptionally  lonely.     It  might  as  well  have  led  over  an 
American  prairie  or  Asiatic  steppe  on  which  the  foot  of 
man   had    never    intruded.      You   see  along   the  white 
reaches  of  the  road  at  a  little  distance  what  looks  like  a 
cluster  of  houses  overshadowed  by  some  tall  umbrella 
pine,  with  all  the  signs  of  human  life  apparently  about 
them ;  but,  as  you  come  near,  the  sight  resolves  itself 
into  a  mere  mass  of  ruins.     The  mirage  of  life  turns  out 
to  be  a  tomb — nay,  the  ruin  of  a  tomb  !     A  carriage  full 
of  visitors  may,  perhaps,  be  seen  at  long  intervals,  their 
spirits  sobered  by  the  melancholy  that  broods  over  the 
scene ;  or  a  lumbering  cart,  laden  with  wine-casks  from 
Ariccia   or   Albano,    drawn    by   the    soft -eyed    mouse- 
coloured  oxen  of  the  Campagna,  startles  the  echoes,  and 
betrays  its  course  by  the  clouds  of  dust  which  it  raises. 
There  are  no  sights  or  sounds  of  rural  toil  in  the  fields 
on  either  side  of  the  way.     Only  a  solitary  shepherd,  with 
his  picturesque   cloak,  accompanied    by  two   or   three 
vicious-looking  dogs,  meets  you ;  or,  perhaps,  you  come 
unexpectedly  upon  an  artist  seated  on  a  tomb  and  busy 
sketching  the  landscape.     For  hours  you  may  have  the 
scene  all  to  yourself.     Even   Rome,  from  this  distance, 
looks  like  a  city  of  dreams  !     Its  walls  and  domes  have 
disappeared  behind  the  misty  green  veil  of  the  horizon ; 
and  only  the  colossal  statues  of  the  apostles  on  the  top 
of  the  church  of  S.  John  I^teran  stand  out  in  a  halo 
of  golden  light,  and  seem  to  stretch  forth  their  hands  to 
welcome  the  approaching  pilgrim. 

It  is  well  known  to  historians  that  the  villa  of  Seneca, 
in  which  he  put  himself  to  death  by  command  of  Nero, 
stood  near  the  fourth  milestone  on  the  Appian  Way. 
The  circumstances  of  his  death  are  exceedingly  sad. 
Wishing  to  get  rid  of  his  former  tutor,  who  had  become 
obnoxious  to  him,  the  bloodthirsty  emperor  first  attempted 
to  poison  him ;  and  when  this  failed,  he  accused  him, 
along  with  his  nephew  the  poet  Lucan  and  several  others, 
of  being  concerned  in  a  conspiracy  against  his  life.  This 
accusation    was    false;    but   it    served    the   purpose   of 


* 


n 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


75 


bringing  Seneca  within  reach  of  his  vengeance,  under  a 
colour  of  justice.     A  tribune  with  a  cohort  of  soldiers 
was  sent  to  intimate  his  fate  to  the  philosopher  ;  allowing 
him  to  execute  the  sentence  of  death  upon  himself  by  what- 
ever means  he  preferred.     Seneca  was  at  supper  with  his 
wife  Paulina  and  two  friends  when  the  fatal  message  came. 
Without  any  sign  of  alarm  he  rose  and  opened  the  veins 
of  his  arms  and  legs,  having  bade  farewell  to  his  friends 
and  embraced  his  wife;  and  while  the  blood,  impoverished 
by  old  age,  ebbed   slowly  from  him,   he  continued  to 
comfort  his  friends  and  exhort  them  to  a  life  of  integrity. 
The  last  words  of  one  so  justly  renowned  were  taken 
down,  and  in  the  time  of  Tacitus  the  record  was  still  ex- 
tant.   We  should  value  much  these  interesting  memorials  ; 
but  they  are  now  irrecoverably  lost.      His  wife,  refusing 
to  live  without  him,  also  endeavoured  to  bleed  herself  to 
death  ;  but  she  was  recovered  by  order  of  Nero  almost 
at  the  last  moment.     She  remained  pale  and  emaciated 
ever  after  from  having  followed  her  husband  more  than 
half-way  on  the  road  to  death. 

No  trace  of  the  villa  where  this  pathetic  tragedy  took 
place  can  now  be  seen ;  but  near  the  spot  where  it  must 
have  stood,  close  beside  the  road,  is  a  marble  bas-relief 
of  the  death  of  Atys,  the  son  of  Croesus,  killed  in  the 
chase  by  Adrastus,  placed  upon  a  modern  pedestal ;  and 
this  is  supposed  to  have   formed  part  of  the  tomb  of 
Seneca.      There  is  no  inscription  ;  probably  none  would 
be  allowed  during  the  lifetime  of  Nero ;  and  we  know 
that  his  body  was  burned  privately  without  any  of  the 
usual  ceremonies.      But  if  this  fragment  of  sculpture  be 
genuine,  the  well-known  classic  story  which  it  tells  was 
an  appropriate  memorial  of  one  who  perished  in  the 
midst  of  the  greatest  prosperity.     No  one  who  is  familiar 
with  the  history  of  this  "  seeker  after  God,"  this  philo- 
sopher who  was  a  pagan  John  the  Baptist  in  the  severity 
and  purity  of  his  mode  of  life,  and  in  the  position  which 
he  occupied  on  the  border-line  between  paganism  and 
Christianity,  and  who  left  behind  him  some  of  the  noblest 


76 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


utterances  of  antiquity,  can  gaze  upon  this  interesting  bas- 
relief  without  being  deeply  moved.  It  speaks  eloquently 
of  the  little  dependence  to  be  placed  upon  the  favour  of 
princes ;  and  it  points  a  powerful  moral  that  has  been 
repeatedly  enforced  in  sacred  as  well  as  profane  history, 
that  he  who  becomes  the  accomplice  of  another  in  crime, 
strikes,  by  that  complicity,  the  death-blow  of  friendship, 
and  makes  himself  more  hated  than  even  the  victim  of 
the  crime  had  been.  When  Seneca  sanctioned,  and  then 
defended  on  political  grounds,  the  matricide  of  Nero, 
from  that  moment  his  own  doom  was  sealed.  Over  the 
former  "  guide,  philosopher,  and  friend,"  the  shadow  of 
this  guilty  secret  rested,  and  it  deepened  and  darkened 
until  the  pupil  embrued  his  hands  in  the  blood  of  his 
teacher.  This  touching  fragment  of  sculpture  is  all  that 
now  remains  of  the  earthly  pomp  of  one  who  at  one  time 
stood  on  the  very  highest  summit  of  human  wisdom. 
There  is  no  likelihood  that  he  ever  met  the  Apostle  Paul 
during  his  residence  in  the  imperial  city,  or  learned  from 
him  any  of  those  precepts  that  are  so  wonderfully 
Christian  in  their  spirit  and  even  words ;  although  an 
early  Christian  forger  thought  it  worth  while  to  fabricate 
a  supposititious  correspondence  between  them.  The 
only  link  of  connection  between  them  was  the  problem- 
atical one  that  St.  Paul,  with  his  wide  sympathies,  may 
have  gazed  with  interest  upon  Seneca's  villa,  as  it  was 
pointed  out  to  him  on  his  journey  to  Rome ;  and  that 
he  was  on  one  occasion  dragged  as  a  prisoner  into  the 
presence  of  Seneca's  elder  brother,  that  Gallio  who  dis- 
missed the  charge  and  the  accusers  with  contempt. 

Passing  two  massive  fragments  of  a  wall,  which  are 
supposed  to  have  formed  part  of  a  small  temple  of 
Jupiter,  beside  which  numerous  Christians  suffered 
martyrdom,  we  come,  at  the  fifth  milestone,  to  a  spot 
associated  with  one  of  those  poetical  legends  which 
occur  in  the  early  annals  of  all  nations,  and  whose  hold 
upon  the  minds  of  men  is  itself  an  historic  truth.  Here 
was  the  boundary  between  the  territory  of  Rome   and 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


n 


that  of  Alba.  Here  was  situated  the  entrenchment 
called  the  Cluilian  Dyke,  where  Hannibal  encamped, 
and  where  previously  the  Roman  and  Alban  armies  were 
drawn  up  in  battle  array,  when  it  was  agreed  that  the 
quarrel  between  them  should  be  settled  by  three  cham- 
pions chosen  from  each  side.  Every  one  knows  the 
story  of  the  Horatii  and  the  Curiatii :  how  these  hapless 
brothers  and  cousins  fought  in  sight  of  both  armies  with 
a  bravery  worthy  of  the  stake ;  and  how,  at  length,  when 
two  of  the  Roman  heroes  were  slain,  and  all  the  Albans 
were  wounded,  the  third  Roman,  who  was  unhurt, 
feigned  to  fly,  and  thus  separating  his  enemies,  who 
followed  him  as  well  as  their  failing  strength  would 
permit,  easily  despatched  them  one  after  the  other,  and 
thus  gained  the  victory  for  the  Roman  cause.  This 
terrible  tragedy,  which  terminated  the  independent  ex- 
istence of  the  Alban  power,  took  place  in  the  fields 
around  here  ;  and  on  the  right-hand  side  of  the  road  are 
three  huge  circular  mounds,  overgrown  with  long  rich 
grass,  planted  with  tall  cypress  and  ilex  trees,  and  sur- 
rounded at  the  foot  with  a  wall  of  huge  peperino  blocks, 
which  antiquarians  have  determined  to  be  the  tombs  of 
the  five  slaughtered  combatants — the  farther  mound 
being  that  of  the  two  Horatii,  the  second  that  of  one 
of  the  Curiatii,  and  the  third  that  of  the  other  two 
Curiatii.  These  tombs  are  situated  exactly  where  we 
should  have  expected  to  find  them  from  the  description 
of  Livy ;  and  they  are  evidently  of  far  older  date  than 
any  of  the  neighbouring  tombs  of  the  imperial  period. 
Their  form  and  construction  carry  us  back  in  imagina- 
tion to  the  earliest  days  of  Rome,  when  Etruscan  archi- 
tecture was  universally  adopted  as  a  model.  For  more 
than  twenty-five  centuries  the  huge  tent-like  mounds 
have  stood,  so  strikingly  different  in  character  from  all 
the  other  sepulchral  monuments  of  the  Appian  Way ; 
preserved  by  the  reverential  care  of  successive  genera- 
tions. The  modern  Romans  have  not  been  behind  the 
ancient  in  the  pride  with  which  they  have  regarded  these 


78 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP 


monuments.  They  have  planted  them  with  the  splendid 
cypress -trees  which  now  add  so  much  to  their  pictur- 
esqueness,  and  annually  repair  the  ravages  of  time.  I 
climbed  up  the  steep  sides  through  the  long  slippery 
grass  to  the  summits  of  two  of  the  mounds,  and  had  a 
grand  view  of  the  whole  scene  of  the  tragic  story,  bathed 
in  the  dim  misty  light  which  always  broods  over  the 
melancholy  Campagna  like  the  spectral  presence  of  the 
past.  The  sunshine  strove  in  vain  to  gild  the  dark 
shadows  which  the  cypresses  threw  over  the  mound  at 
my  feet,  and  the  lonely  wind  wailed  wildly  through 
their  closely-huddled  shivering  branches  around  me. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  road,  beyond  the  earthen 
mounds  of  the  Horatii  and  Curiatii,  a  large  mass  of 
picturesque  ruins  covers  the  Campagna  for  a  consider- 
able distance.  The  peasants  persist  in  calling  this  spot 
Roma  Vecchia,  under  the  idea  that  ancient  Rome  stood 
there,  and  that  these  ruins  are  the  remains  of  the  city. 
Antiquarians,  however,  are  agreed  that  the  ruins  belong 
to  the  large  suburban  villa  of  the  Quintilii,  one  of  the 
noblest  and  most  virtuous  families  of  ancient  Rome. 
One  member,  the  celebrated  rhetorician  Quintilian,  was 
the  first  who  enjoyed  the  regular  salary  allotted  by  Ves- 
pasian to  those  who  provided  a  solid  education  for  the 
upper  classes.  In  the  time  of  the  Emperor  Commodus 
the  villa  was  owned  by  two  brothers  of  the  Quintilian 
family,  Maximus  and  Condianus,  whose  fraternal  love 
is  as  well  known  almost  as  the  friendship  of  Damon  and 
Pythias.  They  were  inseparable  in  all  their  pursuits 
and  pleasures ;  they  shared  this  villa  and  the  surround- 
ing property  together ;  they  composed  a  treatise  in  com- 
mon, some  fragments  of  which  still  survive.  They  were 
raised  together  to  the  consular  dignity  by  Marcus 
Aurelius,  who  greatly  valued  their  virtue  and  their 
mutual  attachment,  and  were  entrusted  together  with 
the  civil  government  of  Greece.  They  were  both  falsely 
accused  of  taking  part  in  a  plot  against  the  emperor's 
life ;  and  Commodus,  who  coveted  their  property,  had 


n 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


79 


them  both  put  to  death  together.  The  tyrant  then  took 
possession  of  their  villa,  which  became  as  notorious  for 
the  evil  deeds  done  in  it  as  it  was  famous  before  for  the 
virtuous  life  of  its  owners.  Here  Commodus,  the  base 
son  of  a  heroic  father,  practised  those  lusts  and  brut- 
alities which  have  branded  his  name  as  that  of  one  of  the 
most  unmitigated  monsters  that  ever  stained  the  pages  of 
history.  It  was  here  that  the  people — exasperated  by 
their  sufferings  through  fire  and  famine,  by  the  open 
sale  of  justice  and  all  public  offices,  and  by  the  blood 
shed  in  the  streets  by  the  praetorian  cavalry — surrounded 
the  villa,  and  demanded  the  head  of  Oleander,  a  Phry- 
gian slave  whom  Commodus  had  placed  at  the  helm  of 
state  because  he  pandered  to  his  master's  vices,  and 
gratified  him  with  rich  presents  obtained  by  the  vilest 
means.  At  the  entreaties  of  his  sister  and  his  favourite 
concubine,  the  emperor  sacrificed  his  minister,  who  was 
with  him  at  the  time,  sharing  in  his  guilty  pleasures ; 
and  threw  out,  from  one  of  the  windows  of  the  villa,  the 
bloody  head  among  the  crowd,  who  gratified  their  ven- 
geance by  tossing  it  about  like  a  football.  Here,  too, 
the  wretched  emperor  himself  was  first  poisoned  by  a 
cup  of  wine  given  to  him  by  his  favourite  mistress 
Marcia,  on  his  return  weary  and  thirsty  from  the  Colos- 
seum ;  and  then,  as  the  poison  operated  too  slowly,  was 
strangled  in  his  heavy  drugged  sleep  by  his  favourite 
gladiator  Narcissus.  One  could  not  look  upon  the  bare 
masses  of  ruins  around  without  thinking  of  the  terrible 
orgies  that  took  place  there,  and  of  the  shout  of  enthu- 
siastic joy  when  the  news  reached  Rome  that  the  de- 
tested tyrant  was  no  more,  and  the  empire  was  free  to 
breathe  again.  The  fate  of  Ahab,  who  coveted  the  vine- 
yard of  Naboth,  overtook  him ;  and  but  for  the  inter- 
ference of  his  successor,  the  maddened  populace  would 
have  dragged  his  corpse  through  the  streets  and  flung 
it  into  the  Tiber. 

A  very  extraordinary  tomb  arrests  the  attention  near 
the  ruins  of  this  villa.      It  looks  like  an  inverted  pyra- 


8o 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


mid,  or  a  huge  architectural  mushroom.     This  appear- 
ance has  been  given  to  the  monument  by  the  removal  of 
the  large  blocks  of  stone  which  formed  the  basement, 
leaving  the  massive  superincumbent  weight  to  be  sup- 
ported on  a  very  narrow  stalk  of  conglomerate  masonry. 
It  is  a  striking  proof  of  the  extraordinary  solidity  and 
tenacity   of   Roman    architecture,    defying   the    laws  of 
gravitation.      It  is  called  the  sepulchre  of  the  Metelli, 
the  family  of  Csecilia  Metella ;  but  this  is  a  mere  guess, 
as  there  is  no  record  or  inscription  to  identify  it.     Next 
to  this  singular  monument  are  the  remains  of  a  tomb 
which  must  be  exceedingly  interesting  to  every  classical 
scholar.     The  inscription  indicates  that  it  is  the  tomb 
of  Quintus  Caecihus,  whose  nephew  and  adopted  son, 
Titus  Pomponius  Atticus,  as  Cornelius  Nepos  tells  us, 
was  buried  in  it.     This   celebrated  Roman  knight  was 
descended    in    a    direct    line    from    Numa    Pompilius. 
Withdrawing  from  the  civil  discords  of  Rome,  he  took 
up  his  abode  in  Athens,  where  he  devoted  himself  to 
literary  and  philosophic  pursuits  and  acquired  a  know- 
ledge of  the  Greek  language  so  perfect  that  he  could  not 
be  distinguished  from  a  native.     At  the  Greek  capital,  the 
then  university  of  the  world,   he  secured  the  devoted 
friendship  of  his  fellow-student   Cicero,  whose  brother 
was  afterwards  married  to  his  sister  ;  and  to  this  intimacy 
we  owe  the  largest  portion  of  Cicero's  unrivalled  letters, 
in  which  he  describes  his  inmost  feelings,  as  well  as  the 
events  going  on  around  him.     The  uncle  of  Atticus,  the 
brother  of  his  mother,  whose  family  tomb  we  are  now 
examining,  left  him  at  his  death  an  enormous  fortune, 
which  he  had  amassed  by  usury.     Atticus  added  greatly 
to  it  by  acting  as  a  kind  of  publisher  to  the  authors  of 
the  day — that  is,  by  employing  his  numerous  slaves  in 
copying  and  multiplying  their  manuscripts.      He  kept 
himself  free  from  all  the  political  factions  of  the  times, 
and   thus  managed   to  preserve    the    mutual  regard    of 
parties  who  were  hostile  to  each  other, — such  as  Caesar 
and  Pompey,    Brutus   and   Antony.     He    reached    the 


n 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


8i 


age  of  seventy-seven  years  without  having  had  a  day's 
illness ;  and  when  at  last  stricken  with  an  incurable 
disease,  in  the  spirit  of  the  Epicurean  philosophy,  since 
he  could  enjoy  life  no  longer  he  starved  himself  to  death, 
and  was  interred  in  his  uncle's  tomb  on  the  Appian  Way. 
Almost  side  by  side  with  this  ruin  is  the  sepulchre  of 
the  family  of  Cicero's  wife,  the  Terentii,  who  were  re- 
lated to  Pomponius  Atticus  by  the  mother's  side.  In 
all  likelihood  Terentia  herself,  Cicero's  brave  and  devoted 
but  ill-used  wife,  was  interred  here  with  her  own  friends, 
for  her  husband  had  divorced  her  in  order  to  marry 
a  beautiful  and  rich  young  heiress,  whose  guardian  he 
had  been. 

Passing  on  the  same  side  of  the  road  two  or  three 
tombs  of  obscure  persons  whose  names  alone  are  known, 
we  come  at  the  sixth  milestone  to  one  of  the  most  extra- 
ordinary sepulchral  monuments  of  the  Appian  Way, 
called  the  Casale  Rotondo.  This  monument  marks  the 
limit  to  which  most  visitors  extend  their  explorations.  It 
is  circular,  like  the  tomb  of  Caecilia  Metella ;  but  it  is  of 
far  larger  dimensions,  being  nearly  three  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  in  diameter.  In  the  fifteenth  century  this 
colossal  ruin  was  converted  into  a  fortress  by  the  Orsini 
family ;  and  of  the  remains  of  this  fortification  a  farm- 
house and  other  buildings  were  constructed,  and  these 
now  stand  on  the  summit,  surrounded  by  a  tolerably- 
sized  oliveyard  and  garden,  with  a  sloping  grass-grown 
stair  leading  up  to  them  on  the  outside.  Notwithstand- 
ing their  dislike  of  death  and  their  horror  of  dead  bodies, 
the  modern  Romans  have  no  more  repugnance  to  the 
proximity  of  tombs  than  their  ancestors  had.  Shepherds 
fold  their  sheep  and  goats  in  the  interior  of  the  old 
tombs,  whose  walls  are  blackened  with  the  smoke  of  the 
fires,  and  retain  an  odour  of  human  and  animal  occu- 
pancy more  disagreeable  than  any  which  the  original 
tenants  could  have  exhaled ;  and  it  is  by  no  means 
unfrequent  to  find  a  wine-shop,  with  a  noisy  company 
of  wayfarers    regaling    themselves,    in   a   sepulchre  that 

G 


82 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


happens  to  be  conveniently  situated  by  the  wayside.    So 
far  as  can  be  ascertained,  the  original  appearance  of  the 
Casale  Rototido  seems  to  have  been  that  of  an  enormous 
circular  tower,   cased    with    large   blocks   of  travertine, 
covered  with  a  pyramidal  roof  of  the  same  material  carved 
into  the  semblance  of  tiles,  and  surmounted  with  appro- 
priate   sculpture.     It  was   surrounded    with    a    wall   of 
peperino,  supporting  at  intervals  vases  and  statues ;  and 
on  the   outside  were  semi-circular   stone  seats  for  the 
benefit  of  weary  wayfarers.    This  wall  is  now  grown  over 
with  turf,  but  it  can  be  distinctly  traced  all  round ;  and 
the  hollow  space  between  it  and  the  tomb  is  covered 
with  thick  grass,  and  is  sometimes  filled  with  water  like 
a  fosse.     Numerous  altars,  pedestals,  and  fine  specimens 
of  sculpture  in  marble  and  peperino,  have  been  disin- 
terred in  this  spot,  and  they  are  now  arranged  to  advan- 
tage at  the  foot   of  the  huge   pile   fronting    the  road. 
Some  of  these  bear  inscriptions  which  would  mdicate 
that  the  tomb  was  erected  to  Messalla  Corvinus,  the 
friend  of  Horace  and  Augustus,  and  himself  a  distin- 
guished historian  and  poet  as  well  as  one  of  the  most 
influential  senators  of  Rome,  by  his  son  Marcus  Aurelius 
Corvinus  Cotta,  who  was  consul  some  years   after   his 
father's  death.      Corvinus  died  in  the  eleventh  year  of 
our   era,  so   that   the   tomb  has  stood   for   upwards   of 
eighteen  centuries  and  a  half;   and  it  is  as  hkely  to 
stand  as  many  more,  for  what  remains  of  it  is  as  firm 
and  enduring  as  a  rock.     In  the  farmhouse  built  on  its 
massive  platform    several   generations    have    lived   and 
died      They  have  eaten  and  drunk,  they  have  married 
and  been  given  in  marriage,  they  have  cultivated  their 
vines  and  olives  and  consumed  their  products.     And  all 
the  time  their  home  and  their  field  of  labour  have  been 
on  a  tomb  1     I  did  not  see  the  tenants  of  this  curious 
dwelling   during  my  visit ;    but   if  the  skeleton  at  the 
Egyptian  feast  was  a  useful  reminder  of  human  mortality 
to  the  revellers,  one  would  suppose  that  the  thought  of 
the  peculiar  character  of  their  home  would  be  sufficient 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


83 


to  impart  a  soberer  hue  to  their  lives.  What  is  our  earth 
itself  but,  on  a  vaster  scale,  a  Casale  Roto?ido — a  garden 
in  a  sepulchre — where  the  dust  we  tread  on  was  once 
alive;  and  we  reap  our  daily  bread  from  human 
mould — 

' '  Earth  builds  on  the  earth  castles  and  towers, 
Earth  says  to  the  earth — All  shall  be  ours. " 

At  a  distance   of  about   seven   minutes'  walk  is  an 
enormous  circular  tomb,  with  a  medieval  tower  of  lava 
stones  erected  upon  it,  called  the  Torre  di  Selce ;  but 
there  is  nothing  to  indicate  who  was  interred  in  it,  though 
it  must  have  been  a  person  of  some  celebrity  at  the  time. 
An  inscription  upon  a  tomb  beside  it  naively  tells  the 
passer-by  to  respect  the  last  resting-place  of  one  who  had 
a  shop  on  the    Via  Sacra,  where  he  sold  jewellery  and 
millinery,  and    was    held    in    much    estimation    by    his 
customers.      Beyond  this  point  there  is  nothing  of  any 
special  interest  to  arrest  our  attention,  till  we  come  to  a 
considerable  mass  of  ruins,  consisting  of  broken  Doric 
columns  of  peperino,  part  of  a  rough  mosaic  floor  and 
brick  pavement,  and  fragments  of  walls  lined  with  tufa 
squares  in  the  optis  reticidatum  pattern.     These  remains 
are   supposed   to   mark   the   spot    on   which   stood   the 
Temple  of  Hercules,  erected  by  Domitian,  and  alluded 
to  in  one  of  the  epigrams  of  the  poet  Martial.      Near 
this  spot  are  the  tomb  of  the  consul  Quintus  Veranius, 
who  died  in  Britain  in  the  year  55  of  our  era;  a  lofty 
circular  tomb,  to  some  one  unknown,  with  a  rude  shep- 
herd's hut  on  the  top  of  it,  to  which  the  peasants  have 
given  the  name  of  Torraccio ;  and  the  tomb  of  a  marble 
contractor.     It  may  be   remarked,  in   connection  with 
this  last  mentioned  tomb,  that  a  Roman  statuary  had  his 
workshops  for  the  manufacture  of  sepulchral  monuments 
and  sarcophagi  on  the  Appian  Way,  which  were  of  great 
extent,  judging  from  the  quantity  of  sculpture,  finished 
and  unfinished,  found  on  the  spot.     All  the  sculpture 
was  manifestly  copied  from   Greek   originals,   for  it   is 
hardly  conceivable  that  such  groupings  and  expressions 


84 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


II 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


8S 


as  we  see  in  these   bad  copies  could  have  been   first 
executed  by  such  inferior  artists.       In   this   neighbour- 
hood were  the  villa  and  farm  of  the  poet  Persius,  and 
portions   of  the  wall   are   still  standing.     At  the  ninth 
milestone  are  the  tomb  and  the  remains  of  the  villa  of 
the  Emperor  Gallienus,  slain  by  a  conspiracy  among  his 
officers  at  the  siege  of  Milan  in  the  year  268.     This 
emperor  has  left  nothing  behind  but  the  memory  of  his 
luxury  and  his  vices.     When  the  site  of  the  villa  was 
excavated  by  an  English  artist,  Gavin  Hamilton,  at  the 
end  of  last  century,  the  famous  statue  of  the  Discobolus 
and  several  other  specimens  of  ancient  sculpture  were 
discovered,  which  are  now  in  the  Vatican  Gallery.     The 
ground  hereabouts  produces  a  whitish  efflorescence,  and 
emits   a  most  offensive   sulphurous   smell.     It  exhibits 
the   same   evidences   of  recent  volcanic  activity  as  the 
neighbourhood  of  Lakes  Tartarus  and  Solfatara  on  the 

way  to  Tivoli. 

The  road  after  this  descends  into  a  valley,  through 
which  the  stream  of  the  Ponticello  flows,  passing  a  most 
massive  circular  tomb,  reminding  one  of  the  mounds  of 
the  Horatii  and  Curiatii ;  and  as  it  ascends  gradually  on 
the  opposite  side,  two  huge  sepulchres  of  the  Imperial 
period — one  on  the  right  hand  and  the  other  on  the 
left— attract  notice,  and  are  the  last  on  this  part  of  the 
route.     The  railway  to  Naples  passes  across  the  road  at 
the  eleventh  milestone,  and  disturbs  the  solemn  silence 
three  or  four  times  a  day  by  its  incongruous  noise.     Be- 
yond this  is  the  osteria  and  village  of  Frattocchie,  where 
the  old  Appian  Way  merges  into  the  new,  and  ascends 
continuously  to  Albano.     This  neighbourhood  is  full  of 
historical  associations.     It  was  at  Frattocchie  that  the 
body  of  Clodius  was  left  lying  on  the  road  after  his  fatal 
encounter  with  Milo.     This  fray  furnished  the  occasion 
for  one  of  Cicero's  most  eloquent   speeches, — that   in 
defence  of  Milo,— which  was  written,  but  owing  to  the 
disturbances  in  the  Forum  at  the  time  was  not  delivered. 
On   the  left  of  the  village,  near  a  railway  bridge  and 


several  quarries  of  very  old  hard  lava,  is  the  site  of 
Appiolse,  one  of  the  cities  of  the  Latin  League,  destroyed 
by  Tarquinius  Priscus.  All  the  male  population  were 
killed,  and  the  women  and  children  transferred  to  Rome  ; 
and  with  the  spoils  the  Capitolium  was  completed.  The 
remains  of  the  old  city  are  very  slight,  consisting  of  a 
wall,  a  few  vestiges  of  a  temple,  and  some  foundations 
on  a  cliff  surrounded  by  a  stream,  which  could  be 
dammed  up  and  flooded  so  as  to  form  a  fosse.  On  the 
right  of  Frattocchie  are  the  ruins  of  Bovi/lce,  taken  and 
plundered  by  Coriolanus,  and  deserted  in  the  time  of 
Cicero.  Some  arches  of  the  corridor  of  an  amphitheatre, 
a  reservoir  for  water,  tolerably  perfect,  and  a  circus,  are 
still  visible.  There  are  also  the  ruins  of  a  forum.  The 
view,  looking  back  from  this  elevated  position  upon  the 
long  course  of  the  Appian  Way,  is  exceedingly  striking. 
One  feels,  when  gazing  on  the  long  perspective  of  rugged 
and  mouldering  sepulchres,  the  full  force  of  the  name 
Strada  del  Diavolo  which  the  peasants  give  to  this  street 
of  tombs ;  and  can  sympathise  with  the  sentiment  that 
made  Charles  Dickens  say,  when  standing  here  at  sunset, 
after  having  walked  all  the  way  from  Rome, ''  I  almost 
felt  as  if  the  sun  would  never  rise  again,  but  look  its  last 
that  night  upon  a  ruined  world." 

We  can  picture  St.  Paul's  memorable  journey  from 
Puteoli  to  Rome  by  this  route.  The  thought  that 
the  eye  of  the  great  apostle  must  have  rested  upon 
the  same  features  of  the  landscape,  and  many  of  the 
same  objects,  though  now  in  ruins,  that  we  still  behold, 
invests  them  with  an  indescribable  charm.  From  beyond 
the  gates  of  Albano,  near  which  stood  the  lofty  tomb  of 
Pompey,  whose  ashes  had  only  recently  been  brought 
from  the  scene  of  his  murder  in  Egypt,  by  his  devoted 
wife  Cornelia,  he  would  obtain  his  first  glimpse  of 
Rome.  And  if  now  it  is  the  most  thrilling  moment  in  a 
man's  life  to  see  Rome  in  its  ruin,  what  must  it  have 
been  to  see  it  then  in  its  glory  !  We  can  imagine  that, 
with  the  profound  emotion  of  his  Master  when  gazing 


86 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


upon  the    splendour   of  Jerusalem   from  the  slope  of 
Olivet,  St.  Paul  would  look  down  from  that  spot  on  the 
capital  of  the  world,  and  see  before  him  the  signs  of  a 
magnificence  never  before  or  since  equalled ;   but  alas  ! 
as  he   knew  well,   a  magnificence    that   was   only   the 
iridescence   of  social  and   spiritual   corruption,    as    the 
pomp  of  the  sepulchres  of  the  Appian  Way  was  but  the 
shroud  of  death.    Doubtless  with  a  sad  and  pitying  heart, 
he  would   be  led   by  the  cohort  of  soldiers  along  the 
street  of  tombs,  then  the  most  crowded  approach  to  a  city 
of  nearly  two  millions  of  souls ;  tombs  whose  massive- 
ness  and  solidity  were  but  a  vain  craving  for  immortality, 
and    whose   epitaphs    were   the   most   deeply   touching 
of   all   epitaphs,  on   account   of  the  profound  despair 
with  which  they  bade  their  eternal  farewell.     Entering 
into   Rome  through   the    Porta   Capena;    and   winding 
through  the  valley   between  the   Coelian  and   Aventine 
hills,  crowded  with  temples  and  palaces,  he  would  be 
brought  to  the   Forum,  then  a  scene  of  indescribable 
grandeur;  and  from  thence  he  would  be  finally  trans- 
ferred to  the  charge  of  Burrus,  the  prefect  of  the  imperial 
guards,  at  the  pr^torium  of  Nero's  palace,  on  the  Palatine. 
And  here  he  disappears  from  our  view.      We  only  know 
of  a  certainty  that  for  two  whole  years  "  he  dwelt  in  his 
own  hired  house,  and  received  all  that  came  in  unto  him, 
preaching  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  teaching  those  things 
concerning  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  with  all  confidence, 
no  man  forbidding  him." 

Of  all  the  splendid  associations  of  the  Appian  Way, 
along  which  history  may  be  said  to  have  marched  ex- 
clusively for  nigh  six  hundred  years,  the  most  splendid 
by  far  is  its  connection  with  this  ever-memorable  jour- 
ney of  the  great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles.  We  can  trace 
the  influence  of  the  scenes  and  objects  along  the  route  in 
all  his  subsequent  writings.  He  had  a  deeper  yearning 
for  the  Gentiles,  because  he  thus  beheld  with  his  own 
eyes  the  places  associated  with  the  darkest  aspects  of 
paganism;    the    scenes    that   gave   rise   to    the    pagan 


n 


THE  APPIAN  WAY 


87 


ideas  of  heaven  and  hell ;  the  splendid  temples  in  which 
the  human  soul  had  debased  itself  to  objects  beneath 
the  dignity  of  its  own  nature,  and  thus  prepared  itself 
for  all  moral  corruption;  and  the  massive  sepulchral 
monuments  in  which  the  hopeless  despair  of  heathenism 
had,  as  it  were,  become  petrified  by  the  Gorgon  gaze  of 
death.  That  Appian  Way  should  be  to  us  the  most 
interesting  of  all  the  roads  of  the  world  ;  for  by  it  came  to 
us  our  civilisation  and  Christianity — the  divine  principles 
and  hopes  that  redeem  the  soul,  retrieve  the  vanity  of 
existence,  open  up  the  path  of  life  through  the  dark 
valley  of  death,  and  disclose  the  glorious  vista  of 
immortality  beyond  the  tomb.  And  as  we  gaze  upon  the 
remains  of  that  road,  and  feel  how  much  we  owe  to  it  as 
the  material  channel  of  God's  grace  to  us  who  were  far 
off,  we  can  say  with  deepest  gratitude  of  those  apostles 
and  martyrs  who  once  walked  on  this  lava  pavement, 
but  are  now  standing  on  the  sea  of  glass  before  the 
throne,  ''  How  beautiful  are  the  feet  of  them  that  preach 
the  gospel  of  peace,  and  bring  glad  tidings  of  good 
things !  " 


CHAP.   Ill 


THE  CUM^AN  SIBYL 


89 


i 


w 


CHAPTER    III 


THE    CUM/EAN     SIBYL 


A  PART  of  the  monotonous  coast-line  of  Palestine 
extends  into  the  Mediterranean  considerably  beyond  the 
rest  at  Carmel.  In  this  bluff  promontory  the  Holy  Land 
reaches  out,  as  it  were,  towards  the  Western  World  ;  and 
like  a  tie-stone  that  projects  from  the  gable  of  the  first 
of  a  row  of  houses,  indicating  that  other  buildings  are  to 
be  added,  it  shows  that  the  inheritance  of  Israel  was  not 
meant  to  be  always  exclusive,  but  was  destined  to  com- 
prehend all  the  countries  which  its  faith  should  annex. 
The  remarkable  geographical  position  of  this  long  pro- 
jecting ridge  by  the  sea — itself  a  symbol  and  prophecy — 
and  its  peculiar  physical  features,  differing  from  those  of 
the  rest  of  Palestine,  and  approximating  to  a  European 
type  of  scenery,  early  marked  it  out  as  a  religious  spot. 
It  was  held  sacred  from  time  immemorial ;  an  altar 
existed  there  long  before  Elijah's  discomfiture  of  the 
priests  of  Baal ;  the  people  were  accustomed  to  resort  to 
the  sanctuary  of  its  "  high  place  "  during  new  moons  and 
Sabbaths ;  and  to  its  haunted  strand  came  pilgrims  from 
distant  regions,  to  which  the  fame  of  its  sanctity  had 
spread.  One  of  the  great  schools  of  the  prophets  of 
Israel,  superintended  by  Elisha,  was  planted  on  one  of 
its  mountain  prominences.  The  solitary  Elijah  found  a 
refuge  in  its  bosom,  and  came  and  went  from  it  to  the 
haunts  of  men  like  one  of  its  own  sudden  storms  ;  and 
in  its  rocky  dells  and  dense  thickets  of  oaks  and  ever- 


greens were  uttered  prophecies  of  a  larger  history  and  a 
grander  salvation,  which  transcended  the  narrow  circle  of 
Jewish  ideas  as  much  as  the  excellency  of  Carmel  tran- 
scended the  other  landscapes  of  Palestine. 

To  this  instance  of  striking  correspondence  between 
the  peculiar  nature  of  a  spot  and  its  peculiar  religious 
history  in  Asia,  a  parallel  may  be  found  in  Europe.  A 
part  of  the  long  uniform  western  coast-line  of  Italy 
stretches  out  into  the  Mediterranean  at  Cumae,  near  the 
city  of  Naples.  Early  colonists  from  Greece,  in  search 
of  a  new  home,  found  in  its  bays,  islands,  and  pro- 
montories a  touching  resemblance  to  the  intricate  coast 
scenery  of  their  own  country.  On  a  solitary  rock  over- 
looking the  sea  they  built  their  citadel  and  established 
their  worship.  In  this  rock  was  the  traditional  cave  of 
the  Cumaean  Sibyl,  where  she  gave  utterance  to  the 
inspirations  of  pagan  prophecy  a  thousand  years  before 
St.  John  received  the  visions  of  the  Apocalypse  on  the 
lone  heights  of  the  ^gaean  isle.  The  promontory 
of  Cumae,  like  that  of  Carmel,  typified  the  onward  course 
of  history  and  religion — a  great  advance  in  men's  ideas 
upon  those  of  the  past.  The  western  sea-board  is  the 
historic  side  of  Italy.  All  its  great  cities  and  renowned 
sites  are  on  the  western  side  of  the  Apennines ;  the 
other  side,  looking  eastward,  with  the  exception  of  Venice 
and  Ravenna,  containing  hardly  any  place  that  stands 
out  prominently  in  the  history  of  the  world.  And  at 
Cumae  this  western  tendency  of  Italy  was  most  pro- 
nounced. On  this  w^estmost  promontory  of  the  beautiful 
land — the  farthest  point  reached  by  the  oldest  civilisation 
of  Egypt  and  Greece — the  Sibyl  stood  on  her  watch- 
tower,  and  gazed  with  prophetic  eye  upon  the  distant 
horizon,  seeing  beyond  the  light  of  the  setting  sun  and 
"  the  baths  of  all  the  western  stars  "  the  dawn  of  a  more 
wonderful  future,  and  dreamt  of  a — 

' '  Vast  brotherhood  of  hearts  and  hands, 
Choir  of  a  world  in  perfect  tune. " 

Cumae  is  only  five  miles  distant  from  Puteoli,  and 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


90 

about  thirteen  west  of  Naples.     But  it  lies  so  much  out 

of  the  way  that  it  is  difficult  to  combine  it  with  the  other 

famous  localities  in  this  classic  neighbourhood   in  one 

day's  excursion,  and  hence  it  is  very  often  omitted.     It 

amply,  however,  repays  a  special  visit,  not  so  much  by 

what  it  reveals  as  by  what  it  suggests.      There  are  two 

ways  by  which  it  can  be  approached,  either  by  the  Vta 

Cumana,  which  gradually  ascends  from  Puteoli  along  the 

ridge  ot  the  low  volcanic  hills  on  the  western  side  of 

Lake  Avernus,  and  passes  under  the  Arco  Felice,  a  huge 

brick  arch,  evidently  a  fragment  of  an  ancient  Roman 

aqueduct,  spanning  a  ravine  at  a  great  height ;  or  directly 

from  the  western  shore  of  Lake  Avernus,  by  an  ancient 

road  paved  with  blocks  of  lava,  and  leading  through  an 

enormous  tunnel,  called  the  Grotta  de  Pietro  Pace,  about 

three-quarters  of  a  mile  long,  lighted  at  intervals  by  shafts 

from  above,  said   to  have  been  excavated  by  Agrippa. 

Both   ways    are    deeply    interesting;    but   the   latter   is 

perhaps  preferable  because  of  the  saving  of  time  and 

trouble  which  it  effects. 

The  first  glimpse  of  Cum?e,  though  very  impressive  to 
the  imagination,  is  not  equally  so  to  the  eye.     Crossing 
some  cultivated  fields,  a  bold  eminence  of  trachytic  tufa, 
covered  with  scanty  grass  and  tufts  of  brushwood,  rises 
between  you  and  the  sea,  forming  part  of  a  range  of  low 
hills,  which  evidently  mark  the  ancient  coast-line.     On 
this  elevated  plateau,  commanding  a  most  splendid  view 
of  the  blue,  sunlit  Mediterranean  as  far  as  Gaeta  and 
the  Ponza  Islands,  stood  the  almost  mythical  city ;  and 
crowning  its  highest  point,  where  a  rocky  escarpment, 
broken  down  on  every  side    except   on  the  south,   by 
which  it  can  be  ascended,  the  massive  foundations  of  the 
walls  of  the  Acropolis  may  still   be  traced  throughout 
their  whole  extent.     Very  few  relics  of  the  original  Greek 
colony  survive;    and  these  have    to  be  sought  chiefly 
underneath  the  remains  of  Roman-Gothic  and  medieval 
dynasties,  which  successively   occupied  the   place,  and 
partially  obliterated  each  other,  like  the  different  layers 


III 


THE  CUM^AN  SIBYL 


91 


of  writing  in  a  palimpsest.  Time  and  the  passions  of 
man  have  dealt  more  ruthlessly  with  this  than  with 
almost  any  other  of  the  renowned  spots  of  Italy.  Some 
fragments  of  the  ancient  fortifications,  a  confused  and 
scattered  heap  of  ruins  within  the  line  of  the  city  walls, 
and  a  portion  of  a  fluted  column,  and  a  single  Doric 
capital  of  the  grand  old  style,  supposed  to  belong  to  the 
temple  of  Apollo,  on  the  summit  of  the  Acropolis,  are 
all  that  meet  the  eye  to  remind  us  of  this  home  of 
ancient  faith  and  prophecy.  In  the  plain  at  the  foot 
of  the  rock  is  the  Necropolis  of  Cumae,  the  most  ancient 
burial-place  in  Italy,  from  whose  rifled  Greek  graves  a 
most  valuable  collection  of  archaic  vases  and  personal 
ornaments  were  obtained  and  transferred  to  the  museums 
of  Naples,  Paris,  and  St.  Petersburg;  but  the  tombs 
themselves  have  now  been  destroyed,  and  only  a  few 
marble  fragments  of  Roman  sepulchral  decoration  scat- 
tered around  indicate  the  spot.  And  not  far  off,  partially 
concealed  by  earth  and  underwood,  may  be  seen  the 
ruins  of  the  amphitheatre,  with  its  twenty-one  tiers  of 
seats  leading  down  to  the  arena. 

You  look  in  vain  for  any  trace  of  the  sanctuary  of  the 
most  celebrated  of  the  Sibyls.  Her  tomb  is  pointed  out 
as  a  vague  ruin  a  short  distance  from  the  Necropolis, 
among  the  tombs  which  line  the  Via  Domitiana;  and 
Justin  Martyr  and  Pausanias  both  describe  a  round 
cinerary  urn  found  in  this  spot  which  was  said  to  have 
contained  her  ashes.  The  tufa  rock  of  the  Acropolis  is 
pierced  with  numerous  dark  caverns  and  labyrinthine 
passages,  the  work  of  prehistoric  inhabitants,  which  have 
only  been  partially  explored  on  account  of  the  difficulty 
and  danger,  and  any  one  of  which  might  have  been  the 
abode  of  the  prophetess.  A  larger  excavation  in  the  side 
of  the  hill  facing  the  sea,  with  a  flight  of  steps  leading  up 
from  it  into  another  smaller  recess,  and  numerous  lateral 
openings  and  subterranean  passages,  supposed  to  penetrate 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  mountain,  and  even  to  com- 
municate with  Lake  Fusaro,  is  pointed  out  by  the  local 


92 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


guides  as  the  Sibyl's  Cave,  which,  as  Virgil  tells  us,  had 
a  hundred  entrances  and  issues,  from  whence  as  many 
resounding  voices  echoed  forth  the  oracles  of  the  inspired 
priestess.      But  we  are  confused  in  our  efforts  at  identi- 
fication;  for  another  cavern  bore  this  name  in  former 
ages,  which  was  destroyed  by  the  explosion  of  the  com- 
bustible materials  with  which  Narses  filled  it  in  under- 
mining the  citadel.     This,   we  have  reason  to  believe, 
was  the   cave  which  Justin  Martyr  visited  more  than 
seventeen  hundred  years  ago,  and  of  which  he  has  left 
behind  a  most  interesting  account.     "  We  saw,"  he  says, 
"when  we  were  in  Cumae,  a  place  where  a  sanctuary  is 
hollowed   in   the  rock— a  thing   really   wonderful   and 
worthy  of  all  admiration.     Here  the  Sibyl  delivered  her 
oracles,  we  were  told  by  those  who  had  received  them 
from  their  ancestors,  and  who  kept  them  even  as  their 
patrimony.     Also,  in  the  middle  of  the  sanctuary,  they 
showed  us  three  receptacles  cut  in  the  same  rock,  and  in 
which,  they  being  filled  with  water,  she  bathed,  as  they 
said,  and  when  she  resumed  her  garments,  she  retired 
into  the  inner  part  of  the  sanctuary,  likewise  cut  in  the 
same  rock,  and  there  being  seated  on  a  high  place  in  the 
centre,  she  prophesied."      But  after  all  you  do  not  care 
to  fasten  your  attention  upon  any  particular  spot,  for  you 
feel  that  the  whole  place  is  overshadowed  by  the  presence 
of  this  mysterious  being ;  and  rock,  and  hill,  and  bush 
are  invested  with  an  air  of  solemn  majesty,  and  with  the 
memory  of  an  ancient  sanctity. 

Nature  has  taken  back  the  ruins  of  Cumce  so  com- 
pletely to  her  own  bosom,  that  it  is  difficult  to  believe 
that  on  this  desolate  spot  once  stood  one  of  the  most 
powerful  cities  of  antiquity,  which  colonised  a  large  part 
of  Southern  Italy.  A  sad,  lonely,  fateful  place  it  is, 
haunted  for  ever  by  the  gods  of  old,  the  dreams  of  men. 
A  silence,  almost  painful  in  its  intensity,  broods  over  its 
deserted  fields  ;  hardly  a  living  thing  disturbs  the  solitude  ; 
and  the  traces  of  man's  occupancy  are  few  and  faint. 
The  air  seems  heavy  with  the  breath  of  the  malaria  ;  and 


III 


THE  CUMiEAN  SIBYL 


93 


no  one  would  care  to  run  the  risk  of  fever  by  lingering 
on  the  spot  to  watch  the  sunset  gilding  the  gloom  of  the 
Acropolis  with  a  halo  of  kindred  radiance.  Every  breeze 
that  stirs  the  tall  grasses  and  the  leaves  of  the  brushwood 
of  the  dismantled  citadel  has  a  wail  in  it ;  the  long-drawn 
murmur  of  the  peaceful  sea  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  comes 
up  with  a  melancholy  cadence  to  the  ear;  and  even  on  the 
beautiful  cyclamens  and  veronicas  that  strive  to  enliven 
the  ruins  of  the  temples  of  Apollo  and  Serapis,  em- 
blems of  the  immortal  youth  and  signs  of  the  renewing 
power  of  Nature  as  they  are,  has  fallen  the  gray  shadow 
of  the  past.  Each  pathetic  bit  of  ruin  has  about  it  the 
consciousness  of  an  almost  fabulous  antiquity,  and  by  its 
very  vagueness  appeals  more  powerfully  to  the  imagina- 
tion than  any  historical  associations.  "Time  here  seems 
to  have  folded  its  wings."  In  the  immemorial  calm  that  is 
in  the  air  a  thousand  years  seem  as  one  day.  Through 
all  the  dim  ages  no  feature  of  its  rugged  face  has 
changed ;  and  all  the  potent  spell  of  summer  noons  can 
only  win  from  it  a  languid  smile  of  faintest  verdure. 
The  sight  of  the  scanty  walls  and  scattered  bits  of 
Greek  sculpture  here  take  you  back  to  the  speechless 
ages  that  have  left  no  other  memorials  of  their  activity. 
What  is  fact  and  what  is  fable  it  were  difficult  to  tell 
in  this  far-away  borderland  where  they  seem  to  blend. 
And  I  do  not  envy  the  man  who  is  not  deeply  moved 
at  the  thought  of  the  simple,  old-world  piety  that  placed 
a  holy  presence  in  this  solitary  spot,  and  of  the  tender 
awe  with  which  the  mysterious  divinity  of  Cumae  was 
worshipped  by  generations  of  like  passions  and  sorrows 
with  ourselves — whose  very  graves  under  the  shadow 
of  this  romantic  hill  had  vanished  long  ages  before  our 
history  had  begun. 

Every  schoolboy  is  familiar  with  the  picturesque 
Roman  legend  of  the  Sibyl.  It  is  variously  told  in  con- 
nection with  the  elder  and  the  later  Tarquin,  the  two 
Etruscan  kings  of  Rome ;  and  the  scene  of  it  is  laid  by 
some  in  Cumse — where  Tarquinius  Superbus  spent  the 


94 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


last  years  of  his  life  in  exile — and  by  others  in  Rome. 
But  the  majority  of  writers  associate  it  with  the  building 
ot  the  great  temple  of  Jupiter  on  the  Capitoline  Hill. 
Several  prodigies,  significant  of  the  future  fate  of  Rome 
and  of  the  reigning  dynasty,  occurred  when  the  founda- 
tions of  this  temple  were  dug  and  the  walls  of  it  built. 
A   fresh   human   head,  dripping  gore,  was   found  deep 
down  beneath  the  earth,  which  implied  that  this  spot  was 
destined  to  become  the  head  of  the  whole  world ;  and 
hence  the  old  name  of  the  "  Saturnine  Hill "  was  changed 
to  the   "  Capitoline."     All  the  gods  who  had  been  wor- 
shipped from  time  immemorial  on  this  hill,  when  consulted 
by  auguries,  gave  permission  for  the  removal  of  their 
shrines  and  altars  in  order  that  room  might  be  provided 
for  the  gigantic  temple  of  the  great  Ruler  of  the  gods, 
save  Terminus  and  Youth,  who  refused  to  abandon  the 
sacred  spot,  and  whose  obstinacy  was  therefore  regarded 
as  a  sign  that  the  boundaries  of  the  city  should  never  be 
removed,    and    that   her    youth    would    be    perpetually 
renewed.     But  a  still  more  wonderful  sign  of  the  future 
of  Rome  was   given   on   this   occasion.     A  mysterious 
woman,  endowed  with  preternatural  longevity — believed 
to  be  no  other  than  Deiphobe,  the  Cumoean  Sibyl  herself, 
the  daughter  of  Circe  and  Gnostus,  who  had  been  the 
guide  of  ^neas  into  the  world  of  the  dead — appeared 
before  Tarquin  and  offered  him  for  a  certain  price  nine 
books,  which  contained  her  prophecies  in  mystic  rhyme. 
Tarquin,  ignorant  of  the  value  of  the  books,  refused  to 
buy  them.     The  Sibyl  departed,  and  burned  three  of 
them.      Coming  back  immediately,  she  offered  the   re- 
maining six  at  the  same  price  that  she  had  asked  for 
the  nine.     Tarquin  again  refused  ;  whereupon  the  Sibyl 
burned   three   more   volumes,   and   returning  the   third 
time,  made  the  same  demand  for  the  reduced  remnant. 
Struck  with  the  singularity  of  the  proceeding,  the  king 
consulted  the  augurs ;  and  learning  from  them  the  in- 
estimable preciousness  of  the  books,  he  bought  them, 
and  the  Sibyl  forthwith  vanished  as  mysteriously  as  she 


III 


THE  CUM/EAN  SIBYL 


95 


had  appeared.    This  legend  reads  like  a  moral  apothegm 
on  the  increasing  value  of  life  as  it  passes  away. 

Whatever  credence  we  may  attach  to  this  account  of 
their  origin — or  rather,  whatever  sediment  of  historical 
truth  may  have  been  precipitated  in  the  fable — there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  the  so-called  Sibylline  books  of 
Rome  did  actually  exist,  and  that  for  a  very  long  period 
they  were  held  in  the  highest  veneration.  They  were 
concealed  in  a  stone  chest,  buried  under  the  ground,  in 
the  temple  of  Jupiter,  on  the  Capitol.  Two  officers  of 
the  highest  rank  were  appointed  to  guard  them,  whose 
punishment,  if  found  unfaithful  to  their  trust,  was  to  be 
sewed  up  alive  in  a  sack  and  thrown  into  the  sea.  The 
number  of  guardians  was  afterwards  increased,  at  first  to 
ten  and  then  to  fifteen,  whose  priesthood  was  for  life, 
and  who  in  consequence  were  exempted  from  the  obli- 
gation of  serving  in  the  army  and  from  other  public 
ofifices  in  the  city.  Being  regarded  as  the  priests  of 
Apollo,  they  had  each  in  front  of  his  house  a  brazen 
tripod,  similar  to  that  on  which  the  priestess  of  Delphi 

sat. 

The  contents  of  the  Sibylline  books,  being  supposed 
to  contain  the  fate  of  the  Roman  Empire,  were  kept  a 
profound  secret,  and  only  on  occasions  of  public  danger 
or  calamity,  and  by  special  order  of  the  senate,  were  they 
allowed  to  be  consulted.  When  the  Capitol  was  burned 
in  the  Marsic  war,  eighty-two  years  before  Christ,  they 
perished  in  the  flames  :  but  so  seriously  was  the  loss 
regarded  that  ambassadors  were  sent  to  Greece,  Asia 
Minor,  and  Cumae,  wherever  Sibylline  inspiration  was 
supposed  to  exist,  to  collect  the  prophetic  oracles,  and 
thus  make  up  as  far  as  possible  for  what  had  been  lost. 
In  Cumse  nothing  was  discovered ;  but  at  Erythraea  and 
Samos  a  large  number  of  mystic  verses,  said  to  have 
been  composed  by  the  Sibyl,  were  found.  Some  of  them 
were  collected  into  a  volume,  after  having  been  purged 
from  all  spurious  or  suspected  elements  ;  and  the  volume 
was  brought  to  Rome,  and  deposited  in  two  gilt  cases  at 


96 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


the  base  of  the  statue  of  Apollo,   in  the  temple  of  that 
god  on  the  Palatine. 

More  than  two  thousand  prophetic  books,  pretending 
to  be  Sibylline  oracles,  were  found  by  Augustus  in  the 
possession  of  private  persons  ;  and  these  were  con- 
demned to  be  burned,  and  in  future  no  private  person 
was  allowed  to  keep  any  writings  of  the  kind.  But  m 
spite  of  every  attempt  to  authenticate  the  books  that 
were  publicly  accepted,  the  new  collection  was  never 
regarded  with  the  same  veneration  as  the  original  volumes 
of  Tarquin  which  it  replaced.  A  certain  suspicion  of 
spuriousness  continued  to  cling  to  it,  and  greatly  dimin- 
ished its  authority.  It  was  seldom  consulted.  The 
Roman  emperors  after  Tiberius— who  still  further  sifted 

it utterly  neglected  the  received  collection;    and  not 

till  shortly  before  the  fatal  battle  of  the  Milvian  Bridge, 
which  overthrew  paganism,  was  it  again  brought  out,  by 
Maxentius,  for  the  purpose  of  indicating  the  fate  of  the 
enterprise.  Julian  the  Apostate,  in  his  attempt  to 
galvanise  the  dead  pagan  religion  into  the  semblance  of 
life,  sought  to  revive  an  interest  in  the  Sibylline  oracles, 
which  were  so  closely  identified  with  the  political  and 
religious  fortunes  of  Rome.  But  his  effort  was  vain  : 
they  fell  into  greater  oblivion  than  before ;  and  at  last 
they  were  publicly  burned  by  Stilicho,  the  father-in-law 
of  the  Emperor  Honorius— called  the  Defender  of  Italy 

whose  own  execution  as  a  traitor  at  Ravenna  shortly 

afterwards  was  considered  by  the  pagan  zealots  as  the 
just  vengeance  of  the  gods  on  his  dreadful  sacrilege. 

Unlike  the  Jewish  and  Indian  faiths,  the  Greek  and 
Roman  religions  had  no  authoritative  writings,  and  were 
not  embodied  in  a  system  of  elaborate  dogmas.  The 
Sibylline  oracles  may  therefore  be  said  to  have  formed 
their  sacred  scriptures,  and  to  have  served  the  purpose  of 
a  common  religious  creed  in  securing  national  unity. 
The  original  books  of  the  Cumaean  Sibyl  were  written  in 
Greek,  which  was  the  language  of  the  whole  of  the  south 
of  Italy  at  that  time.     The  oracles  were  inscribed  upon 


III 


THE  CUM^AN  SIBYL 


97 


palm  leaves ;  to  which  circumstance  Virgil  alludes  in  his 
description  of  the  sayings  of  the  Cumaean  Sibyl  being 
written  upon  the  leaves  of  the  forest.     They  were  in  the 
form  of  acrostic  verses ;  the  letters  of  the  first  verse  of 
each  oracle   containing  in  regular  sequence   the  initial 
letters  of  all  the  subsequent  verses.     They  were  full  of 
enigmas  and  mysterious  analogies,    founded  upon  the 
numerical  value  of  the  initial  letters  of  certain  names. 
It  is  supposed  that  they  contained  not  so  much  predic- 
tions of  future  events,  as  directions  regarding  the  means 
by  which  the  wrath  of  the  gods,  as  revealed  by  prodigies 
and  calamities,  might  be  appeased.       They  seemed  to 
have  been  consulted  in  the  same  way  as  Eastern  nations 
consult  the  Koran  and  Hafiz.     There  was  no  attempt 
made  to  find  a  passage  suitable  to  the  occasion,  but  one 
of  the  palm  leaves  after  being  shuffled  was  selected  at 
random.     To  this  custom  of  drawing  fateful  leaves  from 
the  Sibylline  books — called  in  consequence  sortes  sibyllincB 
— there  is   frequent   allusion   by  classic  authors.      We 
know  that  the  writings  of  Homer  and  Virgil  were  thus 
treated.    The  elevation  of  Septimius  Severus  to  the  throne 
of  the  Roman  Empire  was  supposed  to  have  been  foretold 
by  the  circumstance  that  he  opened  by  chance  the  writings 
of  Lampridius  at  the  verse,  "  Remember,  Roman,  with 
imperial  sway  to  rule  the  people."     The  Bible  itself  was 
used  by  the  early  Christians  for  such  purposes  of  divina- 
tion.    St.  Augustine,  though  he  condemned  the  practice 
as   an    abuse    of  the  Divine  Word,  yet  preferred  that 
men  should  have  recourse  to  the  Gospels  rather  than 
to  heathen  works.     Heraclius  is  reported  by  Cedrenus 
to   have   asked   counsel    of  the    New  Testament,   and 
to  have  been  thereby  persuaded  to  winter  in  Albania. 
Nicephorus   Gregoras  frequently  opened   his  Psalter  at 
random  in  order  that  there  he  might  find  support  in 
the   trial    under   which    he    laboured.      And   even    in 
these  enlightened  days,  it  is  by  no  means  rare  to  find 
superstitious  men  and  women  using  the   sacred   Scrip- 
tures as  the  old  Greeks  and  Romans  used  the  Sibylline 

H 


98 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


oracles— dipping  into  them  by  chance  for  indications  of 
the  Divine  Will. 

The  Cumaean  Sibyl  was  not  the  only  prophetess  of 
the  kind.     There  were  no  less  than  ten  females,  endowed 
with  the  gift  of  prevision,  and  held  in  high  repute,  to 
whom  the  name  of  Sibyl  was  given.     We  read  of  the 
Persian  Sibyl,  the  Libyan,  the  Delphic,  the  Erythraean, 
the    Hellespontine,    the    Phrygian,   and    the    Tiburtine. 
With  the  name  of  the  last-mentioned  Sibyl  tourists  make 
acquaintance  at  Tivoli.     Two  ancient  temples  in  tolerable 
preservation  are  still  standing  on  the  very  edge  of  the  deep 
rocky  ravine  through  which  the  Anio  pours  its  foaming 
flood.     The  one  is  a  small  circular  building,  with  ten  pillars 
surrounding  the  broken-down  cella,  whose  familiar  appear- 
ance is  often  represented  in  plaster  models  and  bronze 
and  marble  ornamental  articles,  taken  home  as  souvenirs 
by  travellers;  and  the  other  stands  close  by,  and  has 
been  transformed  into  the  present  church  of  St.  Giorgio. 
This  latter  temple  is  supposed,  from  a  bas-relief  found  in 
it,  representing  the  Sibyl  sitting  in  the  act  of  delivering 
an  oracle,  to  be  the  ancient  shrine  of  the  Sibyl  Albunea 
mentioned  by  Horace,  TibuUus,  and  Lactantius.     The 
earliest  bronze  statues  at  Rome  were  those  of  the  three 
Sibyls,  placed   near  the  Rostra,  in   the  middle  of  the 
Forum.    No  specimens  of  the  literature  of  Rome  precede 
the  Sibylline  books,  except  the  rude  hymn  known  as  the 
Litany  of  the  Arval  Brothers,  dating  from  the  time  of 
Romulus  himself,  which  is  simply  an  address  to  Mars, 
the  Lares,  and  the  Semones,  praying  for  fair  weather 
and  for  protection  to  the  flocks.       And  it  is  thus  most 
interesting  to  notice  that  the  two  compositions  which  lay 
at  the  foundation  of  all  the  splendid  Latin  literature  of 
later  ages  were  of  an  eminently  religious  character. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  things  connected  with 
the  pagan  Sibyls  were  the  apocryphal  Jewish  and  Chris- 
tian prophecies  to  which  they  gave  rise.  When  the 
sacred  oak  of  Dodona  perished  down  to  the  ground,  out 
of  its  roots  sprang  up  a  fresh  growth  of  fictitious  prophetic 


ni 


THE  CUM^AN  SIBYL 


99 


literature.  This  literature  emanated  from  different  nation- 
alities and  different  schools  of  thought.  It  combined 
classical  story  and  Scripture  tradition.  Most  of  it  was 
the  product  of  pre-Christian  Judaism,  and  seemed  to  have 
been  composed  in  times  of  great  national  excitement. 
The  misery  of  the  present,  the  prospect  still  more  gloomy 
beyond,  impelled  its  authors  to  anxious  inquiries  into 
the  future.  The  books  were  written,  like  the  genuine 
Sibylline  books,  in  the  metrical  form,  which  the  old 
Greek  tradition  had  consecrated  to  religious  use;  and 
their  style  so  closely  resembled  that  of  the  Apocalypse 
and  the  Old  Testament  prophecies,  that  some  pagan 
writers  who  accepted  them  as  genuine  did  not  hesitate  to 
say  that  the  writers  of  the  Bible  had  plagiarised  parts  of 
their  prophecies  from  the  oracles  of  the  Sibyls. 

Few  fragments  of  the  genuine  Sibylline  books  remain 
to  us,  and  these  are  to  be  found  chiefly  in  the  writings 
of  Ovid  and  Virgil,  whose  "  Golden  Age  "  and  well-known 
"Fourth  Eclogue"  were  greatly  indebted  for  their 
materials  to  them.  But  we  possess  a  large  collection  of 
the  Judaeo-Christian  oracles,  which  were  probably  gathered 
together  by  some  unknown  editor  in  the  seventh  century. 
Originally  there  were  fourteen  books  of  unequal  antiquity 
and  value,  but  some  of  them  have  been  lost.  Cardinal 
Angelo  Mai  discovered  in  the  Ambrosian  Library  at 
Milan  a  manuscript  which  contained  the  eleventh  book 
entire,  besides  a  portion  of  the  sixth  and  eighth  books;  and 
a  few  years  later,  among  the  secret  stores  of  the  Vatican 
Library,  he  found  two  other  manuscripts  which  contained 
entire  the  last  four  books  of  the  collection.  These  were 
published  in  Rome  in  1828.  The  best  edition  of  all  the 
extant  books  is  that  which  M.  Alexandre  issued  in  Paris, 
under  the  name  of  Oracula  Stbyllina.  This  editor 
exaggerates  the  extent  of  the  Christian  element  in  the 
Sibylline  prophecies ;  but  his  dissertation  on  the  origin 
and  value  of  the  several  portions  of  the  books  is  exceed- 
ingly interesting.  The  oldest  book  is  undoubtedly  the 
third,  part  of  which   is   preserved   in   the    writings   of 


100 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Ill 


THE  CUM^AN  SIBYL 


lOI 


Theophilus  of  Antioch,  and  originally  consisted  of  one 
thousand  verses,  most  of  which  we  possess.      It  was 
probably  composed  at  the  beginning  of  the  Maccabean 
period,  about  146  B.C.,  when  Ptolemy  VII.  (Physcon)  had 
become  king  of  Egypt,  and  the  bitter  enemy  of  the  Jews 
in  Alexandria,  and  when  the  Jewish  nation  m  Palestine 
had  been  rejoicing  in  their  independence,  through  the 
overthrow  of  the  empire  of  the  Seleucid^  by  the  usurper 
Tryphon.     The  fourth  book  was  written  soon  after  the 
eruption  of  Vesuvius  in  the  year  of  our  era  7  9,  and  is  a 
most  interesting  record  of  Jewish  Essenism.     It  contams 
the  first  anticipation  of  the  return  of  Nero,  but  m  a 
Jewish  form,    without  Nero's  death  and   resuscitation. 
The  last  of  the  Sibylline  books  seems  to  have  been 
written  about  the  beginning   of  the    seventh   century 
and  was  directed  against  the  new  creed  of  Islam,  which 
had  suddenly  sprung  up,  and  in   its   fierce  fanaticism 
was  carrying  everything  before  it.     In  this  apocalyptic 
literature— the   last  growth  of  Judaism— the  voice   of 
paganism  itself  was  employed  to  witness  for  the  suprem- 
acy of  the  Jewish  religion.     It  embraces  all  history  in 
one  great  theocratic  view,  and  completes  the  picture  of 
the  Jewish  triumph  by  the  prophecy  of  a  great  Deliverer, 
who  shall  establish  the  Jewish  law  as  the  rule  of  the 
whole  earth,   and  shall  destroy  with  a  fiery   flood   all 
that  is  corrupt  and  perishable.     In  these  respects  the 
Jewish  Sibylline  oracles  have  an  interesting  connection 
with  other  apocryphal  Jewish  writings,  such  as  the  Fourth 
Book  of  Esdras,  the  Apocalypse  of  Henoch,  and  the  Book 
of  Jubilees ;  and  they  may  all  be  regarded  as  attempts  to 
carry  down  the  spirit  of  prophecy  beyond  the  canonical 
Scriptures,  and  to  furnish  a  supplement  to  them. 

So  highly  prized  was  this  group  of  apocryphal  Jewish 
oracles  by  the  primitive  Christians,  that  several  new  ones 
were  added  to  them  by  Christian  hands  which  have 
not  come  down  to  us  in  their  original  state.  _  They 
were  regarded  as  genuine  productions,  possessing  an 
independent  authority  which,  if  not  divine,  was  certainly 


supernatural ;  and  some  did  not  hesitate  even  to  place 
them  by  the  side  of  the  Old  Testament  prophecies.  In 
the  very  earliest  controversies  between  Christians  and 
the  advocates  of  paganism,  they  were  appealed  to 
frequently  as  authorities  which  both  recognised.  Chris- 
tian apologists  of  the  second  century,  such  as  Tatian, 
Athenagoras,  and  very  specially  Justin  Martyr,  implicitly 
relied  upon  them  as  indisputable.  Even  the  oracles  of 
the  pagan  Sibyl  were  regarded  by  Christian  writers  with 
an  awe  and  reverence  little  short  of  that  which  they  in- 
spired in  the  minds  of  the  heathen  themselves.  Clement 
of  Alexandria  does  not  scruple  to  call  the  Cumaean 
Sibyl  a  true  prophetess,  and  her  oracles  saving  canticles. 
And  St.  Augustine  includes  her  among  the  number  of 
those  who  belong  to  the  "  City  of  God."  And  this  idea 
of  the  Sibyl's  sacredness  continued  to  a  late  age  in  the 
.Christian  Church.  She  had  a  place  in  the  prophetic 
order  beside  the  patriarchs  and  prophets  of  old,  and  joined 
in  the  great  procession  of  the  witnesses  for  the  faith  from 
Seth  and  Enoch  down  to  the  last  Christian  saint  and 
martyr.  In  one  of  the  grandest  hymns  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church,  composed  by  Tommaso  di  Celano  at 
the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century,  there  is  an 
allusion  to  her,  taken  from  the  well-known  acrostic  in 
the  last  judgment  scene  in  the  eighth  book  of  the 
Oracula  Sibyllina — 

"  Dies  irae.dies  ilia, 
Solvet  saeclum  in  favilla, 
Teste  David  cum  Sibylla" 

The  strange  Italian  mystic  of  the  fifteenth  century,  Pico 
della  Mirandola,  who  sought  to  reconcile  the  Christian 
sentiment  with  the  imagery  and  legends  of  pagan  religion, 
rehabilitated  the  Sibyl,  and  consecrated  her  as  the  servant 
of  the  Lord  Jesus.  And  he  was  but  a  specimen  of  the 
many  hutftantsts  of  that  age  who  believed  that  no  oracle 
that  had  once  spoken  to  living  men  and  women  could 
ever  wholly  lose  its  vitality.  Like  the  Delphic  Pythia, 
old,  but  clothed  as  a  maiden,  the  ancient  Sibyl  appeared 


I02 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


to  them  in  the  garments  of  immortal  youth,  with  the 
charm  of  her  early  prime.  ^    ,.   .     ^^  .-  u 

The  dim  old  church  of  Ara  Cceli  m  Rome,  which 
occupies  the  site  of  the  celebrated  temple  of  Jupiter  on 
the  Capitol,  and  in  which  Gibbon  conceived  the  idea  of 
his    great  work  on  the  Dec/ine  and  Fall  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  is  said  to  have  derived  its  name  from  an  altar 
bearing  the  inscription,  "  Ara  Primogeniti  Dei,    erected 
in  this  place  by  Augustus,  to  commemorate  the  Sibylline 
prophecy  of  the   coming  of  our  Saviour.     She  was   a 
favourite  subject  of  Christian  art  in  the  middle  ages,  and 
was  introduced  by  almost  every  celebrated  painter  along 
with  the  prophets  and  apostles,  into  the  cyclical  decora- 
tions of  the  Church.     Every  visitor  to  Rome  knows  the 
fine  picture  of  the  Sibyls  by  Pinturicchio,  on  the  tribune 
behind  the  high  altar  of  the  Church  of  St.  Onofrio  where 
Tasso  was  buried  ;  and  also  the  still  grander  head  of  the. 
Cumsean  Sibyl,  with  its  flowing  turban  by  Domenichino, 
in  the  great  picture  gallery  of  the  Borghese  Palace      But 
the  highest  honour  ever  conferred  upon  the  Sibyls  was 
that  which  Michael  Angelo  bestowed  when  he  painted 
them  on  the  spandrils  of  the  wonderful  roof  of  the  Sistine 
Chapel     These  mysterious  beings  formed  most  congenial 
subjects  for  the  mystic  pencil  of  the  great  Florentine, 
and  therefore  they  are  more  characteristic  of  his  genius 
than  almost  any  other  of  his  works.     He  has  painted 
them  along  with  the  greater  prophets,  Isaiah,  Jeremiah, 
Ezekiel,  Daniel,  Jonah,  in  throne-like  niches  surrounding 
the  different  incidents  of  the  creation.     They  look  like 
presiding  deities,  remote   from  all   human  weaknesses, 
and  wearing  on  their  faces  an  air  of  profound  mystery. 
They  are  invested,   not  with  the  calm,   superficial,  un- 
conscious  beauty  of  pagan   art,  but  with   the   solemn 
earnestness  and  travail  of  soul  characteristic  of  the  Chris- 
tian  creed,   wrinkled  and  saddened  with  thought  and 
worn  out   with   vigils ;   and   are   striking   examples   of 
the  truth,  that  while  each  human  being  can  bear  his 
own   burden,   the  burden  of  the  world's  mystery   and 


III 


THE  CUM^AN  SIBYL 


103 


pain  crushes  us  to  the  earth.  The  Persian  Sibyl,  the 
oldest  of  the  weird  sisterhood,  to  whom  the  sunset  of 
life  had  given  mystical  lore,  holds  a  book  close  to  her 
eyes,  as  if  from  dimness  of  vision  ;  the  Libyan  Sibyl  lifts 
a  massive  volume  above  her  head  on  to  her  knees ;  the 
Cumaean  Sibyl  intently  reads  her  book  at  a  distance 
from  her  dilated  eyes  ;  the  Erythraan  Sibyl,  bareheaded, 
is  about  to  turn  over  the  page  of  her  book  ;  while  the 
Delphic  Sibyl,  like  Cassandra  the  youngest  and  most 
human-looking  of  them  all,  holds  a  scroll  in  her  hand, 
and  gazes  with  a  dreamy  mournfulness  into  the  far  futurity. 
These  splendid  creations  would  abundantly  reward  the 
minute  study  of  many  days.  They  show  how  thoroughly 
the  great  painter  had  entered  into  the  history  and  spirit 
of  these  mysterious  prophetesses,  who,  while  they  bore 
the  sins  and  sorrows  of  a  corrupt  world,  had  power  to 
look  for  consolation  into  the  secrets  of  the  future. 

Very  beautiful  was  this  reverence  paid  to  the  Sibyl 
amid  all  the  idolatries  of  paganism  and  the  corruptions 
of  later  Judaism.  We  may  regard  it  as  a  relic  of  the 
early  piety  of  the  world.  One  who  could  pass  over  the 
interests  and  distractions  of  her  own  time,  and  fix  her 
gaze  upon  the  distant  future,  must  have  seemed  far  re- 
moved from  the  common  order  of  mankind,  who  live 
exclusively  in  the  present,  and  can  imagine  no  other  or 
higher  state  of  things  than  they  see  around  them.  Stand- 
ing as  the  heirs  of  all  the  ages  on  this  elevated  vantage- 
ground  and  looking  back  upon  the  long  course  of  the 
centuries — upon  the  eventful  future  of  the  Sibyl,  which  is 
the  past  to  us — it  seems  a  matter  of  course  that  the  world 
should  have  spun  down  the  ringing  grooves  of  change  as 
it  has  done ;  and  we  fancy  that  this  must  have  been  obvi- 
ous to  the  world's  gray  fathers.  But  though  the  age  of 
the  Sibyl  seemed  the  very  threshold  of  time,  there  was 
nothing  to  indicate  this  to  her,  nothing  to  show  that  she 
lived  in  the  youth  of  the  world,  and  that  it  was  destined 
to  ripen  and  expand  with  the  process  of  the  suns.  The 
same  horizon  that  bounds  us  in  these  last  days,  bound 


I04 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Ill 


THE  CUMiEAN  SIBYL 


105 


her  view  in  these  early  days ;  and  things  seemed  as  fully 
developed  and  stereotyped  then  as  now,  and  to-morrow 
promised  to  be  only  a  repetition  of  to-day.  To  realise, 
therefore,  that  the  world  had  a  future,  and  to  take  the 
trouble  of  thinking  what  would  happen  a  thousand  years 
off,  indicated  no  common  habit  of  mind. 

And  we  are  the  more  impressed  by  it  when  we  con- 
sider the  spots  bewitched  by  the  spell  of  Circe  where  it 
was  exercised.     That  persons  dwelling  in  lonely,  northern 
isles,  where  the  long  wash  of  the  waves  upon  the  shore, 
and  the  wild  wail  of  the  wind  in  mountain  corries  stimu- 
lated the   imagination,   and   seemed   like   voices   from 
another  world,  should   see  visions  and  dream  dreams, 
does  not  surprise  us.     The  power  of  second  sight  may 
seem  natural  to  spots  where  nature  is  mysterious  and 
solemn,  and  full  of  change  and  sudden  transitions  from 
storm  to  calm  and  from  sunshine  to  gloom.      But  at 
Cumse  there  is  a  perpetual  peace,  an  unchanging  mono- 
tony.    The  same  cloudless  sky  overarches  the  earth  day 
after  day,  and  dyes  to  celestial  blue  the  same  placid  sea 
that  sleeps  beside  its  shore.      The  fields  are  drowsy  at 
noon  with  the  same  stagnant  sunshine;  and  the  same 
purple  glory  lies  at  sunset  on  the  entranced  hills  ;  and 
the  olive  and  the  myrtle  bloom  through  the  even  months 
with  no  fading  or  brightening  tint  on  leaf  or  stem  ;  and 
each  day  is  the  twin  of  that  which   has   gone  before. 
Nature  in  such  a  region  is  transparent.     No  mist,  or 
cloud,  or  shadow  hides  her  secrets.     There  is  no  subtle 
joy  of  despair  and  hope,  of  decay  and  growth,  connected 
with  the  passing  of  the  seasons.     In  this  Arcadian  clime 
we  should  expect  Nature  to  lull  the  soul  into  the  sleep 
of  contentment  on  her  lap ;  and  in  its  perpetual  summer 
happy  shepherds  might  sing  eclogues  for  ever,  and,  satisfied 
with  the  present,  have  no  hope  or  wish  for  the  future.  How 
wonderful,  then,  that  in  such  a  charmed  lotus-land  we 
should  meet  with  the  mysterious  unrest  of  soul,  and  the 
fixed  onward  look  of  the  Sibyl  to  times  widely  different 
from  her  own. 


And  not  only  is  this  forward-looking  gaze  of  the  Sibyl 
contrary  to  what  we  should  have  expected  in  such  a 
changeless  land  of  beauty  and  ease ;  it  is  also  contrary  to 
what  we  should  have  expected  from  the  paganism  of  the 
people.  It  is  characteristic  of  the  Greek  religion,  as  in- 
deed of  all  heathen  religions,  that  its  golden  age  should 
be  in  the  past.  It  instinctively  clings  to  the  memory  of 
a  former  happier  time,  and  shrinks  from  the  unknown 
future.  Its  piety  ever  looks  backward,  and  aspires  to 
present  safety  or  enjoyment  by  a  faithful  imitation  of  an 
imaginary  past.  It  is  always  "  returning  on  the  old  well- 
worn  path  to  the  paradise  of  its  childhood,"  and  contrast- 
ing the  gloom  that  overhangs  the  present  with  the 
radiance  that  shone  on  the  morning  lands.  In  every 
crisis  of  terror  or  disaster  it  turns  with  unutterable  yearn- 
ings to  the  tradition  of  the  happy  age.  Or,  if  it  does 
look  forward  to  the  future,  it  always  pictures  "  the  restora- 
tion of  the  old  Saturnian  reign";  it  has  no  standard  of 
future  excellence  or  future  blessedness  to  attain  to,  and 
no  yearnings  for  consummation  and  perfection  hereafter 
The  very  name  given  to  the  south  of  Italy  was  Hesperia, 
the  "  Land  of  the  Evening  Star,"  as  if  in  token  of  its 
exhausted  history ;  and  it  was  regarded  as  the  scene  of 
the  fabled  golden  age  from  which  Saturn  and  the  ancient 
deities  had  been  expelled  by  Jupiter.  But  contrary  to  this 
pagan  instinct,  the  Cumsean  Sibyl  stretched  forward  to  a 
distant  heaven  of  her  aspirations  and  hopes — to  a  nobler 
future  of  the  world,  not  sentimental  and  idyllic,  but  epic 
and  heroic.  She  pictured  the  blessing  or  restoration  of 
this  earth  itself  as  distinct  from  an  invisible  world  of 
happiness.  And  in  this  respect  she  is  more  in  sympathy 
with  the  Jewish  and  Christian  religions  than  with  her  own. 
The  golden  age  of  the  Hebrews  was  in  the  future,  and  was 
connected  with  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  who  should 
restore  the  kingdom  again  unto  Israel.  And  the  character- 
istic of  the  Christian  religion  is  hope,  the  expectation  of 
the  times  of  the  restitution  of  all  things,  and  the  realisa- 
tion of  the  "  one  far-off  divine  event  to  which  the  whole 


io6 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Ill 


THE  CUMiEAN  SIBYL 


107 


creation  moves."  It  is  this  hopeful  element  pervading 
them  that  gives  to  the  lively  oracles  of  Holy  Scripture 
the  triumphant  tone  which  distinguishes  them  so  markedly 
from  the  desponding  spirit  of  all  false  religions,  ancient 
and  modern. 

The  subject  of  the  Sibyl  brings  us  to  the  vexed 
question  of  the  connection  between  pagan  and  Hebrew 
prophecy.  How  are  we  to  regard  the  vaticinations  of 
the  heathen  oracle  ?  That  the  great  mass  of  the  Sibylline 
books  is  spurious  is  glaringly  obvious.  But  there  is  a 
primitive  residuum  which  seems  to  remind  us  that  the 
spirit  of  early  prophecy  still  retained  its  hold  over  human 
nature  amid  all  the  corruptions  of  heathendom,  and 
secured  for  the  Sibyl  a  sacred  rank  and  authority.  We 
have  seen  with  what  reverence  the  greatest  fathers  of  the 
Christian  Church  regarded  her.  While  there  was  un- 
doubtedly much  delusion  and  deception,  conscious  or 
unconscious,  mixed  up  with  it,  we  are  constrained  at  the 
same  time  to  acknowledge  that  there  was  some  reality  in 
this  prophetic  element  of  paganism,  which  cannot  be 
explained  away  as  the  result  of  mere  political  or  intel- 
lectual foresight  or  accidental  coincidence.  It  was  not 
all  imposture.  As  a  ray  of  light  is  contained  in  all  that 
shines,  so  a  ray  of  God's  truth  was  reflected  in  what  was 
best  in  this  pagan  prophecy.  The  fulfilment  of  many  of 
the  ancient  oracles  cannot  be  denied  without  a  perversion 
of  all  history.  There  was  no  doubt  an  immense  difference 
between  the  Hebrew  prophets  and  the  pagan  Sibyl.  The 
predictions  of  the  Sibyl  were  accompanied  by  strange 
fantastic  circumstances,  and  wore  the  appearance  of  a 
blind  caprice  or  arbitrary  fate;  whereas  the  announcements 
of  the  Hebrew  prophets,  founded  upon  the  denunciation  of 
moral  evil  and  the  reign  of  sacred  and  peremptory  prin- 
ciples of  righteousness  in  the  world,  were  calm,  dignified, 
and  self-consistent.  But  we  cannot,  notwithstanding, 
deny  to  pagan  prophecy  some  share  in  the  higher 
influence  which  inspired  and  moulded  Hebrew  prophecy. 
The  apostle  of  the  Gentiles  took  this  view  when  he  called 


Epimenides  the  Cretan  a  prophet.  The  Bible  recognises 
the  existence  of  true  prophets  outside  the  pale  of  the 
Jewish  Church.  Balaam,  the  son  of  Beor,  was  a  heathen 
living  in  the  mountains  beyond  the  Euphrates ;  and  yet 
the  form  as  well  as  the  substance  of  his  prophecy  was 
cast  into  the  same  mould  as  that  of  the  Hebrew  prophets. 
He  is  called  in  the  Book  of  Numbers  "  the  man  whose 
eyes  are  open ; "  and  God  used  this  power  as  His  organ 
of  intercourse  with  and  influence  upon  the  world.  The 
grand  record  of  his  vision  is  the  first  example  of  prophetic 
utterance  respecting  the  destinies  of  the  world  at  large ; 
and  we  see  how  the  base  and  grovelling  nature  of 
the  man  was  overpowered  by  the  irresistible  force  of  the 
prophetic  impulse  within  him,  so  that  he  was  constrained 
to  bless  the  enemies  he  was  hired  to  curse.  And  in 
this  respect  he  represents  the  purest  of  the  ancient 
heathen  oracles ;  and  his  answer  to  Balak  breathes  the 
very  essence  of  prophetic  inspiration,  and  is  far  in  advance 
of  the  spirit  and  thought  of  the  time,  reminding  us  of  the 
noble  rebuke  of  the  Cumsean  Sibyl  to  Aristodicus,  and 
of  the  oracle  of  Delphi  to  Glaucus. 

God  did  not  leave  the  Gentile  nations  without  some 
glimpses  of  the  truth  which  He  had  revealed  so  fully  and 
brightly  to  His  own  chosen  people.  While  He  was  the 
glory  of  His  people  Israel,  we  must  not  forget  that  He 
was  a  light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles.  He  gave  to  them 
oracles  and  sibyls,  who  had  the  "open  eye,"  and  saw 
the  vision  of  the  years,  and  witnessed  to  a  light  shining 
in  the  darkness,  and  brought  God  nearer  to  a  faithless 
world.  Beneath  the  gross  external  polytheism  of  the 
multitude  there  were  deep,  primitive  springs  of  godliness, 
pure  and  undefiled,  working  out  their  manifestation  in 
noble  lives ;  and  those  who  have  ears  to  hear  can  listen 
to  the  sound  of  these  ancient  streams  as  they  flow  into 
the  river  of  life  that  makes  glad  the  city  of  our  God. 
We  gain  immensely  by  considering  the  prophetical  spirit  of 
Israel  as  a  typical  endowment,  and  the  training  of  the 
Jews  in  the  household  of  God,  and  under  His  own  im- 


io8 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP.  Ill 


mediate  eye,  as  the  key  to  the  right  apprehension  of  the 
training  of  Greece  and  Rome.  The  unconscious  pro- 
phecies of  heathendom  pointed  in  their  own  way,  as  well 
as  the  articulate  divine  prophecies  of  Israel,  to  the  coming 
of  Him  who  is  the  Desire  of  all  nations,  and  the  true 
Light  that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world. 
The  wise  men  of  Greece  saw  the  sign  of  the  Son  of  Man 
in  some  such  way  as  the  Magi  saw  the  star  in  the  East. 
They  were,  according  to  Hegel's  beautiful  comparison, 
*'  Memnons  waiting  for  the  day."  And  not  without  deep 
significance  did  the  female  soothsayer  from  the  oracle  of 
Dionysius,  the  prophet-god  of  the  Macedonians,  whom 
Paul  and  Silas  met  when  they  first  landed  on  European  soil, 
greet  them  with  the  words,  "  These  men  are  the  servants 
of  the  most  high  God,  which  show  unto  us  the  way  of 
salvation."  In  that  wonderful  confession  we  recognise 
the  last  utterance  of  the  oracle  of  Delphi  and  the  Sibyl 
of  Cumoe,  as  they  were  cast  out  by  a  higher  and  truer 
faith.  Their  mission  was  accomplished  and  their  shrine 
deserted  when  God's  way  was  known  upon  the  earth,  and 
His  saving  health  among  all  nations. 

"And  now  another  Canaan  yields 
To  thine  all-conquering  ark  ; 
Fly  from  the  'old  poetic  fields,' 
Ye  Paynim  shadows  dark  ! 
Immortal  Greece,  dear  land  of  glorious  lays, 
Lo  !  here  the  unknown  God  of  thine  unconscious  praise. 


"  The  olive  wreath,  the  ivied  wand, 
•  The  sword  in  myrtles  drest,' 
Each  legend  of  the  shadowy  strand 
Now  wakes  a  vision  blest  ; 
As  little  children  lisp,  and  tell  of  heaven, 
So  thoughts  beyond  their  thoughts  to  those  high  bards  were 
given." 


CHAPTER    IV 


FOOTPRINTS    IN    ROME 


In  the  fork  where  a  cross-road  called  the  Via  Ardea- 
tina  branches  off  from  the  Appian  Way,  is  a  little  homely 
church  with  the  strange  name  of  "  Domine  quo  Vadis." 
It  is  associated  with  one  of  the  most  beautiful  legends 
of  the  early  Christian  Church  touchingly  told  by  St. 
Ambrose.  The  Apostle  Peter,  fleeing  from  the  persecu- 
tion under  Nero  that  arose  after  the  burning  of  Rome, 
came  to  this  spot ;  and  there  he  saw  a  vision  of  the 
Saviour  bearing  His  cross  with  His  face  steadfastly  set  to 
go  to  the  city.  Filled  with  wonder  and  awe,  the  Apostle 
exclaimed,  "  Domine  quo  Vadis,"  Lord,  whither  goest 
thou?  To  which  the  Saviour  replied,  turning  upon 
Peter  the  old  look  of  mournful  pity  when  he  denied  Him 
in  the  High  Priest's  palace  at  Jerusalem,  "  Venio  Roman 
iterum  crucifigi,"  I  go  to  Rome  to  be  crucified  a  second 
time — and  then  disappeared.  Peter  regarding  this 
vision  as  an  indication  of  his  Lord's  mind,  that  he  ought 
not  to  separate  himself  from  the  fortunes  of  his  fellow- 
Christians,  immediately  turned  back  to  the  city,  and 
met  with  unflinching  courage  the  martyr's  death  on  the 
yellow  sands  of  Montorio ;  being  crucified  with  his  head 
downwards,  for  he  said  he  was  not  worthy  to  die  in  the 
same  way  as  his  Master.  This  legend  has  been  made 
the  subject  of  artistic  treatment  by  Michael  Angelo, 
whose  famous  statue  of  our  Lord  as  He  appeared  in  the 
incident  to  St.  Peter  is  in  the  church  of  Santa  Maria 


1 10 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IV 


FOOTPRINTS  IN  ROME 


III 


'< 


sopra   Minerva,    and   was    for   many  years  a  favourite 
object  of  worship,  until  superseded  by  the  predominant 
worship  of  Mary.       A  cast  of  this  statue  stands  on  the 
floor    in    front  of  the    altar   in  the  church  of  Domine 
quo  Vadis.     It  represents  our  Lord  in  the  character  of 
a  pilgrim,  with  a  long  cross  in  His  hand,  and  an  eager 
onward  look  in  His  face  and  attitude.     It  is  very  simple 
and    impressive,    and    tells    the    story    very    effectually. 
Besides  this  plaster  statue  of  the  Saviour,  a  circular  stone 
is  placed  about  the  centre  of  the  building,  surrounded 
by  a  low  wooden  railing,  containing  the  prints  of  two 
feet   side  by  side,   impressed  upon  its  surface,  as  if  a 
person  had  stopped  short  on   a  journey.      These   are 
said  to  be  the  miraculous  prints  of  the  Saviour's  feet  on 
the  pavement  of  the  road  when  He  appeared  to  Peter ; 
but  like  the  copy  of  Michael  Angelo's  statue,  this  slab 
is  a  facsimile,  the  original  stone  being  preserved  among 
the  relics  of  the  neighbouring  basilica  of  St.  Sebastian. 
Unwilling  as  one  is  to  disturb  a  legend  so  beautiful, 
and  with  so  touching  a  moral,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  it  was  an  after-thought  to  account  for  the  footprints ; 
for  the  material  on  which  they  are  impressed  being  white 
marble,  proves  conclusively  that   the  slab  could  never 
have  formed  part  of  the  pavement  of  the  Appian  Way, 
which  it  is  well  known  was  composed  of  an  unusually 
hard  lava,  found  in  a  quarry  near  the  tomb  of  Caecilia 
Metella;    and  the   distinct   marks  of  the  chisel  which 
the  impressions  bear — for  I  examined  the  original  foot- 
prints very  carefully  some  years  ago — indicate  a  very 
earthly  origin  indeed.     The  traditional  relic  in  all  prob- 
ability belonged  to  the  early  subterranean  cemetery — 
leading  by  a  door  out  of  the  left  aisle  of  the  church 
of  St.  Sebastian,  to  which  the  name  of  Catacomb  was 
originally  applied. 

Slabs  with  footprints  carved  upon  them  are  by  no 
means  rare  in  Rome.  In  the  Kircherian  Museum,  in 
the  room  devoted  to  early  Christian  antiquities,  there  is  a 
square  slab  of  white  marble  with  two  pairs  of  footprints 


elegantly  incised  upon  it,  pointed  in  opposite  directions, 
as  if  produced  by  a  person  going  and  returning,  or  by 
two  persons  crossing  each  other.  There  is  no  record 
from  what  catacomb  this  sepulchral  slab  was  taken.  We 
have  descriptions  of  other  relics  of  the  same  kind  from 
the  Roman  Catacombs, — such  as  a  marble  slab  bearing 
upon  it  the  mark  of  the  sole  of  a  foot,  with  the  words 
"  In  Deo  "  incised  upon  it  at  the  one  end,  and  at  the 
other  an  inscription  in  Greek  meaning  "Januaria  in 
God  " ;  and  a  slab  with  a  pair  of  footprints  carved  on 
it  covered  with  sandals,  well  executed,  which  was  placed 
by  a  devoted  husband  over  the  loculus  or  tomb  of  his 
wife.  Impressions  of  feet  shod  with  shoes  or  sandals 
are  much  rarer  than  those  of  bare  feet ;  and  a  pair  of 
feet  is  a  more  customary  representation  than  a  single 
foot,  which,  when  carved,  is  usually  in  profile.  In  a 
dark,  half-subterranean  chapel,  green  with  damp,  belong- 
ing to  the  church  of  St.  Christina  in  the  town  of  Bolsena, 
on  the  great  Volscian  Mere  of  Macaulay,  there  is  a  stone 
let  into  the  front  of  the  altar,  and  protected  by  an  iron 
grating,  on  which  is  rudely  impressed  a  pair  of  misshapen 
feet  very  like  those  in  the  church  of  St.  Sebastian  at  Rome. 
In  the  lower  church  at  Assisi  there  is  a  duplicate  of 
these  footprints.  The  legend  connected  with  them  says 
that  they  were  produced  by  the  feet  of  a  Christian  lady 
named  Christina,  living  in  the  neighbourhood  in  pagan 
times,  who  was  thrown  into  the  adjoining  lake  by  her 
persecutors,  with  a  large  flat  stone  attached  to  her  body. 
Instead  of  sinking  her,  the  stone  formed  a  raft  which 
floated  her  in  a  standing  attitude  safely  to  the  opposite 
shore,  where  she  landed — leaving  the  prints  of  her  feet 
upon  the  stone  as  an  incontestable  proof  of  the  reality 
of  the  miracle.  The  altar  with  which  the  slab  is  en- 
grafted— with  a  stone  baldacchino  over  it — I  may  men- 
tion, was  the  scene  of  the  famous  miracle  of  Bolsena, 
when  a  Bohemian  priest,  officiating  here  in  1263,  was 
cured  of  his  sceptical  doubts  regarding  the  reality  of 
transubstantiation  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  drops  of 


112 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IV 


FOOTPRINTS  IN  ROME 


"3 


blood  on  the  Host  which  he  had  just  consecrated— an 
incident  which  formed  the  subject  of  Raphaels  well- 
known  picture  in  the  Vatican,  and  in  connection  with 
which  Pope  Urban  IV.  instituted  the  festival  of  Corpus 
Christi      On  the  Lucanian  coast,  near  the  little  fishing 
town  of  Agrapoli,  not  far  from  Paestum,  there  is  shown 
on  the  limestone  rock  the  print  of  a  foot  which  is  said  by 
the  inhabitants  to  have  been  made  by  the  Apostle  Paul, 
who  lingered  here  on  his  way  to  Rome.     In  the  famous 
church  of  Radegonde  at  Poitiers,  dedicated  to  the  queen 
of  Clothaire  L— who  afterwards  took  the  veil,  and  was 
distinguished  for  her  piety— there  is  shown  on  a  white 
marble  slab   a  well-defined  footmark,  which   is  called 
"  Le  pas  de  Dieu,"  and   is  said  to   indicate  the  spot 
where  the  Saviour  appeared  to  the  tutelary  saint  of  the 
place      Near  the  altar  of  the  church  of  St  Genaro  de 
Poveri  in  Naples,  Mary's  foot  is  shown  suspended  in  a 
glazed  frame.     In  the  middle  of  the  footprint  there  is  an 
oval  figure  with  the  old  initials  of  mother,  water,  matter. 
The  footprint  of  Mary  is  very  common  in  churches  in 
Italy  and  Spain,  where  it  is  highly  venerated. 

The  significance  of  these   footmarks  has  been  the 
subject  of  much    controversy.       Some   have   regarded 
them  as  symbols  of  possession— the  word  *'  possession 
being  supposed  to  be  etymologically  derived  from  the 
Latin  words  pedis  positio,  and  meaning  literally  the  posi- 
tion of  the  foot.     The  adage  of  the  ancient  jurists  w'as, 
"Quicquid  pes  tuus  calcaverit  tuum  erit."     Ihe  symbol 
of  a  foot  was  carved  on  the  marble  slab  that  closed  the 
ioculus  or  tomb,  to  indicate  that  it  was  the  purchased 
property  of  the  person  who  reposed  in  it.     This  view, 
however,  has  not  been  generally  received  with  favour  by 
the   most   competent   authorities.      A   more   plausible 
theory  is  that  which  regards  the  sepulchral  footmarks  in 
the  Catacombs  as  votive  offerings  of  gratitude,  ordered 
by  Christians   to  be  made   in  commemoration  of  the 
completion  of  their  earthly  pilgrimage.     It  was  a  com- 
mon pagan  custom  for  persons  who  had  recovered  from 


disease  or  injury,  to  hang  up  as  thankofferings  in  the 
shrines  of  the  gods  who  were  supposed  to  have  healed 
them,  images  or  representations,  moulded  in  metal,  clay, 
or  wood,  of  the  part  that  had  been  affected.  In  Italy, 
votive  tablets  were  dedicated  to  Iris  and  Hygiea  on 
which  footmarks  were  engraved ;  and  Hygiea  received 
on  one  occasion  tributes  of  this  kind  which  recorded 
the  gratitude  of  some  Roman  soldiers  who  escaped  the 
amputation  which  was  inflicted  upon  their  comrades  by 
Hannibal.  This  custom  survived  in  the  early  Christian 
Cliurch,  and  is  still  kept  up,  as  any  one  who  visits  a 
modern  shrine  of  pilgrimage  in  Roman  Catholic  coun- 
tries can  testify.  Among  such  votive  offerings,  models 
and  carved  and  painted  representations  of  feet  in  stone, 
or  wood,  or  metal,  are  frequently  suspended  before  the 
image  of  the  Madonna,  in  gratitude  for  recovery  from 
some  disease  of  the  feet  We  may  suppose  that  as  the 
ancient  Romans,  when  they  returned  safely  from  some 
long  and  dangerous  or  difficult  journey  undertaken  for 
business  or  health,  dedicated'  in  gratitude  a  representa- 
tion of  their  feet  to  their  favourite  god — so  the  early 
Christians,  who  in  their  original  condition  were  pagans, 
and  still  cherished  many  of  their  old  customs,  ordered 
these  peculiar  footmarks  to  be  made  upon  their  graves, 
in  token  of  thankfulness  that  for  them  the  pilgrimage  of 
life  was  over,  and  the  endless  rest  begun.  There  can 
be  little  doubt  that  the  slab  with  the  so-called  footprints 
of  St  Christina  on  it  at  Bolsena,  already  alluded  to,  was 
a  pagan  ex-votive  offering ;  for  the  altar  on  which  it  is 
engrafted  occupies  the  site  of  one  anciently  dedicated  to 
Apollo,  and  the  legend  of  St.  Christina  gradually  crystal- 
lised around  it  And  the  footprint  in  the  church  of 
Radegonde  at  Poitiers  was  more  likely  pagan  than 
Christian,  for  Poitiers  had  a  Roman  origin,  and  numer- 
ous Roman  remains  have  been  found  in  the  town  and 
neighbourhood. 

A  long   and    curious   list   might   be    made    of  the 
miraculous  impressions  said  to  have  been  left   by  our 


t 


t 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


114 

Saviour's  feet  on  the  places  where  He  stood.     In  the 
centre  of  the  platform  at  Jerusalem  on  which  the  Temple 
of  Solomon  stood,  covered  by  the  dome  of  the  Sakrah 
Mosque,  a  portion  of  the  rough  natural  limestone  rock 
rises  several  feet  above  the  marble  pavement,  and  is  the 
principal  object  of  veneration  in  the  place.     It  has  an 
excavated   chamber   in   one   corner,   with    an  aperture 
through  the  rocky  roof,  which  has  given  to  the  rock  the 
name  of  "lapis  pertusus,"  or  perforated  stone.     On  this 
rock  there  are  natural  or  artificial  marks,   which  the 
successors  of  the  Caliph  Omar  believed  to  be  the  prints 
of  the  angel  Gabriel's  fingers,  and  the  mark  of  Mohammed  s 
foot,  and  that  of  his  camel,  which  performed  the  whole 
journey  from  Mecca  to  Jerusalem  in  four  bounds.     The 
stone    it  is  said,  originally  fell  from  heaven,  and  was 
used  as  a  seat  by  the  venerable  prophets  of  Jerusalem. 
So  long  as  they  enjoyed  the  gift  of  prophecy,  the  stone 
remained  steady  under  them;   but  when  the  gjft  was 
withdrawn,  and  the  persecuted  seers  were  compelled  to 
flee  for  safety  to  other  lands,  the  stone  rose  to  accom- 
pany them:  whereupon  the  angel  Gabriel  interposed, 
and  prevented  the  departure  of  the  prophetical  chair, 
leaving  on  it  indelibly  the  marks  of  his  fingers.     It  was 
then  supernaturally  nailed  to  its  rocky  bed  by  seven  brass 
nails      When  any  great  crisis  in  the  world's  fortunes 
happens,  the  head  of  one  of  these  nails  disappears ;  and 
when  they  are  all  gone,  the  day  of  judgment  will  come. 
There  are  now  only  three  left,  and  therefore  the  Mo- 
hammedans believe  that  the  end  of  all  things  is  not  far 
off.     When  the  Crusaders  took  possession  of  the  sacred 
city,  they  altered  the  Mohammedan  legend,  and  attri- 
buted the  mysterious  footprint  to  our  Lord  when  He 
went  out  of  the  Temple  to  escape  the  fury  of  the  Jews. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  marks  on  the  rock  are 
prehistoric,   and   belong   to   the   primitive    worship    of 
Mount  Moriah,  long  before  the  august  associations  of 
Biblical  history  gathered  around  it.     To  this  spot  the 
Jews  used  to  come  in  the  fourth  century  and  wail  over 


IV 


FOOTPRINTS  IN  ROME 


■I 


"5 


the  rock,  and  anoint  it  with  oil,  as  if  carrying  out  some 
dim  tradition  of  former  primitive  libations. 

In  the  Octagon  Chapel  of  the  Church  of  the  Ascen- 
sion on  the  top  of  the  Mount  of  Olives,  so  well  known 
for  the  magnificent  view  which  it  commands  of  Jerusalem 
and  the  Dead  Sea,  is  shown  the  native  rock  which  forms 
the  summit  of  the  hill  from  which  our  Lord  ascended 
into  heaven.  On  this  rock,  it  is  said  by  tradition,  He 
left  the  mark  of  His  footsteps.  Arculf,  who  visited 
Palestine  about  the  year  700,  says  :  "On  the  ground  in 
the  midst  of  the  church  are  to  be  seen  the  last  prints  in 
the  dust  of  our  Lord's  feet,  and  the  roof  appears  above 
where  He  ascended ;  and  although  the  earth  is  daily 
carried  away  by  believers,  yet  still  it  remains  as  before, 
and  retains  the  same  impression  of  the  feet."  Jerome 
mentions  that  in  his  time  the  same  custom  was  observed, 
followed  by  the  same  singular  result.  Later  writers, 
however,  asserted  that  the  impressions  were  made,  not 
in  the  ground,  or  in  the  dust,  but  on  the  solid  rock ; 
and  that  originally  there  were  two,  one  of  them  having 
been  stolen  long  ago  by  the  Mohammedans,  who  broke 
off  the  fragment  of  stone  on  which  it  was  stamped.  Sir 
John  Mandeville  describes  the  appearance  of  the  sur- 
viving footmark  as  it  looked  in  his  day,  1322  :  "From 
that  mount  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ascended  to  heaven 
on  Ascension  Day,  and  yet  there  appears  the  impress  of 
His  left  foot  in  the  stone."  What  is  now  seen  in  the 
place  is  a  simple  rude  cavity  in  the  natural  rock,  which 
bears  but  the  slightest  resemblance  to  the  human  foot. 
It  may  have  been  artificially  sculptured,  or  it  may  be 
only  one  of  those  curious  hollows  into  which  limestone 
rocks  are  frequently  weathered.  In  either  case  it  natur- 
ally lent  itself  to  the  sacred  legend  that  has  gathered 
around  it. 

In  the  Kaaba,  the  most  ancient  and  remarkable 
building  of  the  great  Mosque  at  Mecca,  is  preserved  a 
miraculous  stone  with  the  print  of  Abraham's  feet 
impressed  upon  it.     It  is  said,  by  Mohammedan  tradi- 


Ii6 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IV 


FOOTPRINTS  IN  ROME 


117 


tion,  to  be  the  identical  stone  which  served  the  patriarch 
as  a  scaffold  when  he  helped  Ishmael  to  rebuild  the 
Kaaba,  which  had  been  originally  constructed  by  Seth, 
and  was  afterwards  destroyed  by  the  Deluge.  While 
Abraham  stood  upon  this  stone,  it  rose  and  sank  with 
him  as  he  built  the  walls  of  the  sacred  edifice.  The 
relic  is  said  to  be  a  fragment  of  the  same  gray  Mecca 
stone  of  which  the  whole  building  is  constructed, — in 
this  respect  differing  from  the  famous  black  stone  brought 
to  Abraham  and  Ishmael  by  the  angel  Gabriel,  and  built 
into  the  north-east  corner  of  the  exterior  wall  of  the 
Kaaba,  which  is  said  by  scientific  men  to  be  either  a 
meteorite  or  fragment  of  volcanic  basalt.  It  is  popularly 
supposed  to  have  been  originally  a  jacinth  of  dazzling 
whiteness,  but  to  have  been  made  black  as  ink  by  the 
touch  of  sinful  man,  and  that  it  can  only  recover  its 
original  purity  and  brilliancy  at  the  day  of  judgment. 
The  millions  of  kisses  and  touches  impressed  by  the 
faithful  have  worn  the  surface  considerably;  but  in 
addition  to  this,  traces  of  cup-shaped  hollows  have  been 
observed  on  it.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  both  these 
relics  associated  with  Abraham  are  of  high  antiquity,  and 
may  have  belonged  to  the  prehistoric  worship  which 
marked  Mecca  as  a  sacred  site,  long  before  the  followers 
of  the  Prophet  had  set  up  their  shrine  there.  In  the 
sacred  Mosque  of  Hebron,  built  over  the  cave  of  Mach- 
pelah,  is  pointed  out  a  footprint  of  the  ordinary  size  on 
a  slab  of  stone,  variously  called  that  of  Adam  or  of 
Mohammed.  It  is  said  to  have  been  brought  from  Mecca 
some  six  hundred  years  ago,  and  is  enclosed  in  a  recess 
at  the  back  of  the  shrine  of  Abraham,  where  it  is  placed 
on  a  sort  of  shelf  about  three  feet  above  the  floor.  On 
the  margin  of  the  tank,  in  the  court  of  the  ruined  mosque 
at  Baalbec,  there  are  shown  four  giant  footmarks,  which 
are  supposed  to  have  been  impressed  by  some  patriarch 
or  prophet,  but  are  more  likely  to  have  been  connected 
with  the  ancient  religion  of  Canaan,  which  lingered  here 
to  the  latest  days  of  Roman  paganism.    In  the  great  Druse 


■ 


shrine  of  Neby  Schaib  near  Hattin  there  is  a  square 
block  of  limestone  in  the  centre  of  which  is  a  piece  of 
alabaster  containing  the  imprint  of  a  human  foot  of 
natural  size,  with  the  toes  very  clearly  defined.  The 
Druses  reverently  kiss  this  impression,  asserting  that  the 
rock  exudes  moisture,  and  that  it  is  never  dry.  There  is 
a  split  in  the  rock  across  the  centre  of  the  footprint, 
which  they  account  for  by  saying  that  when  the  prophet 
stepped  here  he  split  the  rock  with  his  tread  In 
Damascus  there  was  at  one  time  a  sacred  building  called 
the  Mosque  of  the  Holy  Foot,  in  which  there  was  a 
stone  having  upon  it  the  print  of  the  feet  of  Moses.  Ibn 
Batuta  saw  this  curious  relic  early  in  the  fourteenth 
century ;  but  both  the  mosque  and  the  stone  have  since 
disappeared.  On  the  eastern  side  of  the  Jordan  a 
Bedouin  tribe,  called  the  Adwan,  worship  the  print  left 
on  a  stone  by  the  roadside  by  a  prophetess  while  mount- 
ing her  camel,  in  order  to  proceed  on  a  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca.  The  Kadriyeh  dervishes  of  Egypt  adore  a 
gigantic  shoe,  as  an  emblem  of  the  sacred  foot  of  the 
founder  of  their  sect ;  and  near  Madura,  a  large  leather 
shoe  is  offered  in  worship  to  a  deity  that,  like  Diana, 
presides  over  the  chase. 

To  the  student  of  comparative  religion  the  Phrabat, 
or  Sacred  Foot  of  Buddha,  opens  up  a  most  interesting 
field  of  investigation.  In  the  East,  impressions  of  the 
feet  of  this  wonderful  person  are  as  common  as  those  of 
Christ  and  the  Virgin  Mary  in  the  West.  Buddhists  are 
continually  increasing  the  number  by  copies  of  the 
originals  ;  and  native  painters  of  Siam  who  are  ambitious 
of  distinction  often  present  these  sacred  objects  to  the 
king,  adorned  with  the  highest  skill  of  their  art,  as  the 
most  acceptable  gift  they  can  offer.  The  sacred  foot- 
print enters  into  the  very  essence  of  the  Buddhist  religion ; 
it  •  claims  from  the  Indo-Chinese  nations  a  degree  of 
veneration  scarcely  yielding  to  that  which  they  pay  to 
Buddha  himself.  It  is  very  ancient,  and  was  framed  to 
embody  in  one  grand    symbol  a  complete   system  of 


ii8 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IV 


FOOTPRINTS  IN  ROME 


119 


theology  and  theogony,  which  has  been  gradually  forgotten 
or  perverted  by  succeeding  ages  to  the  purposes  of  a 
ridiculous  superstition.  It  is  elaborately  carved  and 
painted  witli  numerous  symbols,  each  of  which  has  a  pro- 
found significance.  The  liturgy  of  the  Siamese  con- 
nected with  it  consists  of  fifty  measured  lines  of  eight 
syllables  each,  and  contains  the  names  of  a  hundred 
and  eight  distinct  symbolical  objects, — such  as  the  lion, 
the  elephant,  the  sun  and  moon  in  their  cars  drawn  by 
oxen,  the  horse,  the  serpents,  the  spiral  building,  the  tree, 
the  six  spheres,  the  five  lakes,  and  the  altar — all  of  which 
are  represented  on  the  foot.  This  list  of  symbolical 
allusions  is  recited  by  the  priests,  and  forms  an  essential 
part  of  the  ritual  of  worship.  The  Siamese  priests  say 
that  any  mortal  about  to  arrive  at  the  threshold  of  Nivana 
has  his  feet  emblazoned  spontaneously  with  all  the 
symbols  to  be  seen  on  the  Phrabat. 

The  Siamese  acknowledge  only  five  genuine  Phrabats 
made  by  the  actual  feet  of  Buddha.  They  are  called 
the  Five  Impressions  of  the  Divine  Foot.  The  first  is 
on  a  rock  on  the  coast  of  the  peninsula  of  Malacca,  where, 
beside  the  mark  of  Buddha's  foot,  there  is  also  one  of 
a  dog's  foot,  which  is  much  venerated  by  the  natives. 
The  second  Phrabat  is  on  the  Golden  Mountain,  the 
hill  with  the  holy  footstep  of  Buddha,  in  Siam,  which 
Buddha  visited  on  one  occasion.  The  impression  is 
that  of  the  right  foot,  and  is  covered  with  a  maradop,  a 
pyramidal  canopy  supported  by  gilded  pilasters.  The 
hollow  of  the'/ootstep  is  generally  filled  with  water,  whicli 
the  devotee  sprinkles  over  his  body  to  wash  away  the 
stain  of  his  sin.  The  third  Phrabat  is  on  a  hill  on  the 
banks  of  the  Jumna,  in  the  midst  of  an  extensive  and 
deep  forest,  which  spreads  over  broken  ranges  of  hills. 
The  Phrabat  is  on  a  raised  terrace,  like  that  on  which 
most  of  the  Buddhist  temples  are  built.  The  pyramidal 
structure  which  shelters  it  is  of  hewn  stone  ninety  feet 
high,  and  is  like  the  baldacchino  of  a  Roman  Catholic 
church.    There  are  four  impressions  on  different  terraces, 


•I 


each  rising  above  the  other,  corresponding  to  the  four 
descents  of  the  deity.  The  fourth  Phrabat  is  also  on 
the  banks  of  the  Jumna.  But  the  fifth  and  most  cele- 
brated of  all  is  the  print  of  the  sacred  foot  on  the  top 
of  the  Amala  Sri  Pada,  or  Adam's  Peak,  in  Ceylon.  On 
the  highest  point  of  this  hill  there  is  a  pagoda-like  build- 
ing, supported  on  slender  pillars,  and  open  on  every  side 
to  the  winds.  Underneath  this  canopy,  in  the  centre  of 
a  huge  mass  of  gneiss  and  hornblende,  forming  the  living 
rock,  there  is  the  rude  outline  of  a  gigantic  foot  about 
five  feet  long,  and  of  proportionate  breadth. 

Sir  Emerson  Tennent,  who  has  given  a  full  and 
interesting  account  of  this  last  Phrabat  in  his  work  on 
Ceylon,  supposes  that  it  was  originally  a  natural  hollow 
in  the  rock,  afterwards  artificially  enlarged  and  shaped 
into  its  present  appearance ;  but  whatever  may  have  been 
its  origin  at  first,  its  present  shape  is  undoubtedly  of 
great,  perhaps  prehistoric,  antiquity.  In  the  sacred  books 
of  the  Buddhists  it  is  referred  to,  upwards  of  three  hundred 
years  before  Christ,  as  the  impression  left  of  Buddha's  foot 
when  he  visited  the  earth  after  the  Deluge,  with  gifts  and 
blessings  for  his  worshippers ;  and  in  the  first  century  of 
the  Christian  era  it  is  recorded  that  a  king  of  Cashmere 
went  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Ceylon  for  the  express  purpose 
of  adoring  this  Sri-pada^  or  Sacred  Footprint.  The 
Gnostics  of  the  first  Christian  centuries  attributed  it  to 
leu,  the  first  man  ;  and  in  one  of  the  oldest  manuscripts 
in  existence,  now  in  the  British  Museum — the  Coptic 
version  of  the  "  Faithful  Wisdom,"  said  to  have  been 
written  by  the  great  Gnostic  philosopher  Valentinus  in 
the  fourth  centuiy — there  is  mention  made  of  this  vener- 
able relic,  the  Saviour  being  said  to  inform  the  Virgin 
Mary  that  He  has  appointed  the  Spirit  Kalapataraoth  as 
guardian  over  it.  From  the  Gnostics  the  Mohammedans 
received  the  tradition ;  for  they  believe  that  when  Adam 
was  expelled  from  Paradise  he  lived  many  years  on  this 
mountain  alone,  before  he  was  reunited  to  Eve  on  Mount 
Arafath,  which  overhangs  Mecca.     The  early  Portuguese 


"vCtr 


120 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IV 


FOOTPRINTS  IN  ROME 


121 


fe. 


settlers  in  the  island  attributed  the  sacred  footprint  to  St. 
Thomas,  who  is  said  by  tradition  to  have  preached  the 
Gospel,  after  the  ascension  of  Christ,  in  Persia  and  India, 
and  to  have  suffered  martyrdom  at  Malabar,  where  he 
founded  the  Christian  Church,  which  still  goes  by  the 
name  of  the  Christians  of  St.  Thomas  ;  and  they  believed 
that  all  the  trees  on  the  mountain,  and  for  half  a  league 
round  about  its  base,  bent  their  crowns  in  the  direction 
of  this   sacred  object — a  mark    of  respect  which  they 
affirmed   could  only  be   offered   to  the   footstep   of  an 
apostle.     The  Brahmins  have  appropriated  the  sacred 
mark  as  the  footprint  of  their  goddess  Siva.     At  the 
present  day  the  Buddhists  are  the  guardians  of  the  shrine  ; 
but  the  worshippers  of  other  creeds  are  not  prevented 
from  paying  their  homage  at  it,  and  they  meet  in  peace 
and  goodwill  around  the  object  of  their  common  adora- 
tion.    By  this  circumstance  the  Christian  visitor  is  re- 
minded of  the  sacred  footprint,  already  alluded  to,  on 
the  rock  of  the  Church  of  the  Ascension  on  the  Mount 
of  Olives,  which  is  part  of  a  mosque,  and  has  five  altars 
for    the    Greek,   Latin,    Armenian,   Syrian,   and^  Coptic 
Churches,  all  of  whom  climb  the  hill  on  Ascension  Day 
to  celebrate  the  festival ;  the  Mohammedans,  too,  coming 
in  and  offering  their  prayers  at  the  same  shrine.     The 
worship  paid  on  the   mountain   of  the  sacred  foot   in 
Ceylon  consists  of  offerings  of  the  crimson  flowers  of  the 
rhododendron,  which  grow  freely  among  the  crags  around, 
accompanied  by  various  genuflections  and  shoutings,  and 
concluding  with  the  striking  of  an  ancient  bell,  and  a 
draught  from  the  sacred  well  which  springs  up  a  little 
below  the  summit.     These  ceremonies  point  to  a  very 
primitive  mode  of  worship ;   and  it  is  probable  that,  as 
Adam's  Peak  was  venerated  from  a  remote  antiquity  by 
the  aborigines  of  Ceylon,  being  connected  by  them  with 
the  worship  of  the  sun,  the  sacred  footprint  may  belong 
to  this  prehistoric  cult      Models   of  the  footprint  are 
shown  in  various  temples  in  Ceylon. 

Besides  these  five  great  Phrabats,  there  are  others  of 


V 


inferior  celebrity  in  the  East.  In  the  P'hra  Fathom  of 
the  Siamese,  Buddha  is  said  to  have  left  impressions  of 
his  feet  at  Lauca  and  Chakravan.  At  Ava  there  is 
a  Phrabat  near  Prome  which  is  supposed  to  be  a  type  of 
the  creation.  Another  is  seen  in  the  same  country  on  a 
large  rock  lying  amidst  the  hills  a  day's  journey  west  of 
Meinbu.  Dr.  Leyden  says  that  it  is  in  the  country  of 
the  Lan  that  all  the  celebrated  founders  of  the  religion 
of  Buddha  are  reported  to  have  left  their  most  remark- 
able vestiges.  The  traces  of  the  sacred  foot  are  sparingly 
scattered  over  Pegu,  Ava,  and  Arracan.  But  among  the 
Lan  they  are  concentrated ;  and  thither  devotees  repair 
to  worship  at  the  sacred  steps  of  Pra  Kukuson,  Pra 
Konnakan,  Pra  Puttakatsop,  and  Pra  Samutacadam. 

The  footsteps  of  Vishnu  are  also  frequent  in  India 
Sir  William  Jones  tells  us  that  in  the  Puranas  mention  is 
made  of  a  white  mountain  on  w^hich  King  Sravana  sat 
meditating  on  the  divine  foot  of  Vishnu  at  the  station 
Trevirana.  When  the  Hindoos  entered  into  possession 
of  Gaya — one  of  the  four  most  sacred  places  of 
Buddhism — they  found  the  popular  feeling  in  favour 
of  the  sacred  footprint  there  so  strong  that  they  were 
obliged  to  incorporate  the  relic  into  their  own  religious 
system,  and  to  attribute  it  to  Vishnu.  Thousands  of 
Hindoo  pilgrims  from  all  parts  of  India  now  visit  the 
shrine  every  year.  Indeed  to  the  worshippers  of  Vishnu 
the  Temple  of  Vishnupad  at  Gaya  is  one  of  the  most 
holy  in  all  India ;  and  as  we  are  informed  in  the  great 
work  of  Dr.  Mitra,  the  later  religious  books  earnestly 
enjoin  that  no  one  should  fail,  at  least  once  in  his  lifetime, 
to  visit  the  spot.  They  commend  the  wish  for  numerous 
offspring  on  the  ground  that,  out  of  the  many,  one  son 
might  visit  Gaya,  and  by  performing  the  rites  prescribed 
in  connection  with  the  holy  footstep,  rescue  his  father 
from  eternal  destruction.  The  stone  is  a  large  hemi- 
spherical block  of  granite,  with  an  uneven  top,  bearing 
the  carvings  of  two  human  feet  The  frequent  washings 
which   it  daily  undergoes   have  worn  out  the  peculiar 


a 


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123 


sectorial  marks  which  the  feet  contain,  and  even  the 
outlines  of  the  feet  themselves  are  but  dimly  perceptible. 
English  architects  are  now  engaged  in  preserving  the 
ruins  of  the  splendid  temple  associated  with  this  footprint, 
where  the  ministry  of  India's  great  teacher — the  "  Light 
of  Asia  " — began.  In  the  Indian  Museum  at  Calcutta 
there  is  a  large  slab  of  white  marble  bearing  the 
figure  of  a  human  foot  surrounded  by  two  dragons.  It 
was  brought  from  a  temple  in  Burmah,  where  it  used  to 
be  worshipped  as  a  representation  of  Buddha's  foot.  It 
is  seven  inches  long  and  three  inches  broad,  and  is  divided 
into  a  hundred  and  eight  compartments,  each  of  which 
contains  a  different  mystical  mark. 

At  Gangautri,  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges,  is  a  wooden 
temple  containing  a  footprint  of  Ganga  on  a  black  stone. 
In  a  strange  subterranean  temple,  inside  the  great  fort 
at  Allahabad,  there  are  two  footprints  of  Vishnu,  along 
with  footprints  of  Rama,  and  of  his  wife  Sita.  In  India 
the  "  kaddam  rassul,"  or  supposed  impression  of  Moham- 
med's foot  in  clay,  which  is  kept  moist,  and  enclosed  in 
a  sort  of  cage,  is  not  unfrequently  placed  at  the  head  of 
the  gravestones  of  the  followers  of  Islam.  On  the  summit 
of  a  mountain  one  hundred  and  thirty-six  miles  south  of 
Bhagalpur  is  one  of  the  principal  places  of  Jain  worship 
in  India.  On  the  table-land  are  twenty  small  Jain  temples 
on  different  craggy  heights,  which  resemble  an  extinguisher 
in  shape.  In  each  of  them  is  to  be  found  the  Vasu 
Padukas — a  sacred  foot  similar  to  that  which  is  seen  in 
the  Jain  temple  at  Champanagar.  The  sect  of  the  Jain 
in  South  Bihar  has  two  places  of  pilgrimage.  One  is  a  tank 
choked  with  weeds  and  lotus-flowers,  which  has  a  small 
island  in  the  centre  containing  a  temple,  with  two  stones 
in  the  interior,  on  one  of  which  is  an  inscription  and  the 
impression  of  the  two  feet  of  Gautama — the  most  common 
object  of  worship  of  the  Jains  in  this  district.  The 
other  is  the  place  in  the  same  part  of  the  country  where 
the  body  of  Mahavira,  one  of  the  twenty-four  lawgivers, 
was  burnt  about  six  centuries  before  Christ.     It  resembles 


the  other  temple,  and  is  situated  in  an  island  in  a  tank. 
The  island  is  terraced  round,  and  in  the  cavity  of  the 
beehive-like  top  there  is  the  representation  of  Mahavira's 
feet,  to  which  crowds  of  pilgrims  are  continually  flocking. 
In  the  centre  of  the  Jain  temple  at  Puri,  where  this 
remarkable  man  died,  there  are  also  three  representations 
of  his  feet,  and  one  impression  of  the  feet  of  each  of  his 
eleven  disciples. 

But  the  subject  of  footprints  carries  us  farther  back 
than  the  ages  of  the  great  historic  founders  of  religion. 
In  almost  every  part  of  the  earth  footprints  have  been 
found,  cut  in  the  solid  rock  or  impressed  upon  boulders 
and    other    stones.      These    artificial   tracks,    like   the 
strange  human   footprint  which   Robinson  Crusoe   dis- 
covered on  the  beach   of  his  lonely  island,  excite  the 
imagination  by  their  mystery,  and  open  up  a  vista  into  a 
hitherto  unexplored  world  of  infinite  suggestion.     They 
seem  the  natural  successors  of  those  tracks  of  birds  and 
reptiles  on  sandstone  and  other  slabs  which  form  one  of 
the  most  interesting  features  in  every  geological  museum  ; 
the  material  on  which  they  are  impressed  having  allowed 
the  substantial  forms  of  the  creatures  themselves  to  dis- 
appear, while  it  has  carefully  preserved  the  more  shadowy 
and  incidental  memorials  of  their  life.     The  naturalist 
can  tell  us  from  the  ephemeral  impressions  on  the  soft 
primeval  mud,  not  only  what  was  the  true  nature  of  the 
obscure  creatures  that  produced  them  untold  ages  ago, 
but  also  the  direction  in  which  they  were  moving  along 
the  shore,  and  the  state  of  the  tide  and  the  weather,  and 
the  appearance  of  the  country  at  the  time.     But  regard- 
ing those  literal  human  "footprints  on  the  sands  of  time," 
which  have  been  left  behind  by  our  prehistoric  ancestors, 
we  can  make   no  such  accurate   scientific   inductions. 
They  have  given  rise  to  much  speculation,  being  con- 
sidered by  many  persons  to  be  real  impressions  of  human 
feet,  dating  from  a  time  when  the  material  on  which  they 
were  stamped  was  still  in  a  state  of  softness.     Supersti- 
tion has  invested  them  with  a  sacred  veneration,  and 


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125 


legends  of  a  wild  and  mystical  character  have  gathered 
around  them.  The  slightest  acquaintance  with  the 
results  of  geological  research  has  sufficed  to  dispel  this 
delusion,  and  to  show  that  these  mysterious  marks  could 
not  have  been  produced  by  human  beings  while  the 
rocks  were  in  a  state  of  fusion ;  and  consequently  no 
intelHgent  observer  now  holds  this  theory  of  their  origin. 
But  superstition  dies  hard ;  and  there  are  persons  who, 
though  confronted  with  the  clearest  evidences  of  science, 
still  refuse  to  abandon  their  old  obscurantist  ideas. 
They  prefer  a  supernatural  theory  that  allows  free  scope 
to  their  fancy  and  religious  instinct,  to  one  that  offers  a 
more  prosaic  explanation.  There  is  a  charm  in  the 
mystery  connected  with  these  dim  imaginings  which 
they  would  not  wish  dispelled  by  the  clear  daylight  of 
scientific  knowledge.  In  our  own  country,  footmarks  on 
rocks  and  stones  are  by  no  means  of  unfrequent  occur- 
rence.  Some  of  them,  indeed,  although  associated  with 
myths  and  fairy  tales,  have  doubtless  been  produced  by 
natural  causes,  being  the  mere  chance  effects  of  weather- 
ing, without  any  meaning  except  to  a  geologist.  But 
there  are  others  that  have  been  unmistakably  produced 
by  artificial  means,  and  have  a  human  history  and  signi- 
ficance. 

In  Scotland  Tanist  stones — so  called  from  the  Gaelic 
word  tayiaiste^  a  chief,  or  the  next  heir  to  an  estate — 
have  been  frequently  found.  These  stones  were  used  in 
connection  with  the  coronation  of  a  king  or  the  inaugur- 
ation of  a  chief.  The  custom  dates  from  the  remotest 
antiquity.  We  see  traces  of  it  in  the  Bible, — as  when  it 
is  mentioned  that  "Abimelech  was  made  king  by  the 
oak  of  the  pillar  that  was  in  Shechem  " ;  and  "  Adonijah 
slew  sheep  and  oxen  and  fat  cattle  by  the  stone  of 
Zoheleth,  which  is  by  En-rogel,  and  called  all  his 
brethren  the  king's  sons,  and  all  the  men  of  Judah  the 
king's  servants " ;  and  that  when  Joash  was  anointed 
king  by  Jehoiada,  "the  king  stood  by  a  pillar,  as  the 
manner  was " ;  and  again.   King  Josiah   "  stood  by  a 


s 


pillar"  to  make  a  covenant,  "and  all  the  people  stood 
to  the  covenant."  The  stone  connected  with  the  cere- 
mony was  regarded  as  the  most  sacred  attestation  of  the 
engagement  entered  into  between  the  newly-elected  king 
or  chief  and  his  people.  It  was  placed  in  some  con- 
spicuous position,  upon  the  top  of  a  "  moot-hill,"  or  the 
open-air  place  of  assembly.  Upon  it  was  usually  carved 
an  impression  of  a  human  foot ;  and  into  this  impression, 
during  the  ceremony  of  inauguration,  the  king  or  chief 
placed  his  own  right  foot,  in  token  that  he  was  installed 
by  right  into  the  possessions  of  his  predecessors,  and 
that  he  would  walk  in  their  footsteps.  It  may  be  said 
literally,  that  in  this  way  the  king  or  chief  came  to  an 
understanding  with  his  people ;  and  perhaps  the  common 
saying  of  "  stepping  into  a  dead  man's  shoes  "  may  have 
originated  from  this  primitive  custom. 

The  most  famous  of  the  Tanist  stones  is  the  Corona- 
tion-stone in  Westminster  Abbey — the  Lia  Fail,  or 
Stone  of  Destiny — on  which  the  ancient  kings  of  Scot- 
land sat  or  stood  when  crowned,  and  which  forms  a 
singular  link  of  connection  between  the  primitive  rites 
that  entered  into  the  election  of  a  king  by  the  people, 
and  the  gorgeous  ceremonies  by  which  the  hereditary 
sovereigns  of  England  are  installed  into  their  high  ofifice. 
There  is  no  footmark,  however,  on  this  stone.  It  may 
be  mentioned  that  before  the  arrival  of  the  Scottish 
stone  there  had  been  for  ages  a  similar  stone  at  West- 
minster Hall,  which  gave  the  name  to  and  was  the 
original  place  of  sitting  for  the  Court  of  King's  Bench. 
It  was  no  doubt  a  relic  of  the  primitive  Folkmoot  of 
Westminster,  which  has  developed  into  the  Parliament  of 
England.  In  the  neighbourhood  of  Upsala  is  the  Mora 
stone,  celebrated  in  Swedish  history  as  the  spot  where 
the  kings  were  publicly  elected  and  received  the  homage 
of  their  subjects. 

A  more  characteristic  specimen  of  a  Tanist  stone 
may  be  seen  on  the  top  of  Dun  Add,  a  rocky  isolated  hill 
about  two  hundred  feet  high,  in  Argyleshire,  not  far  from 


126 


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127 


Ardrishaig.     On  a  smooth  flat  piece  of  rock  which  pro- 
trudes above  the  surface  there  is  carved  the  mark  of  a 
right  foot,  covered  with  the  old  cuaran  or  thick  stocking, 
eleven  inches  long  and  four  inches  and  a  half  broad  at 
the  widest  part,  the  heel  being  an  inch  less.     It  is  sunk 
about  half  an  inch  in  the  rock,  and  is  very  little  weather- 
worn— the  reason  being,  perhaps,  that  it  has  been  pro- 
tected for  ages  by  the  turf  that  has  grown  over  it,  and 
has  only  recently  been  exposed.     Quite  close  to  it  is  a 
smooth  polished  basin,  eleven  inches  in  diameter  and 
eight  deep,  also  scooped  out  of  the  rock.     With  these 
two  curious  sculptures  is  associated  a  local  myth.    Ossian, 
who  lived  for  a  time  in  the  neighbourhood,  was  one  day 
hunting  on  the  mountain  above   Loch   Fyne.     A  stag 
which  his  dogs  had  brought  to  bay  charged  him,  and  he 
fled  precipitately.     Coming  to  the  hill  above  Kilmichael, 
he  strode  in  one  step  across  the  valley  to  the  top  of 
Rudal  Hill,  from  whence  he  took  a  gigantic  leap  to  the 
summit  of  Dun  Add.     But  when  he  alighted  he  was 
somewhat  exhausted  by  his  great  effort,  and  fell  on  his 
knee,  and  stretched  out  his  hands  to  prevent  him  from 
falling  backwards.      He  thereupon  left  on  the  rocky  top 
of  Dun  Add  the  enduring  impression  of  his  feet  and 
knee  which  we  see  at  the  present  day.     This  myth  is  of 
comparatively  recent  date,  and  is  interesting  as  showing 
that  all  recollection  of  the  original  use  of  the  footmark 
and  basin  had  died  away  for  many  ages  in  the  district. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  footmark  indicates  the 
spot  to  have  been  at  one  time  the  scene  of  the  inaugura- 
tion of  the  kings  or  chiefs  of  the  region  ;  and  the  basin 
was  in  all   probability  one  of  those   primitive   mortars 
which  were  in  use  for  grinding  corn   long  before  the 
invention  of  the  quern.     Dun  Add  is  one  of  the  oldest 
sites  in  Scotland.     It  has  the  hoary  ruins  of  a  nameless 
fort,  and  a  well  which  is  traditionally  said  to  ebb  and 
flow  with  the  tide.     It  was  here  that  the  Dalriadic  Scots 
first  settled  ;  and  Captain  Thomas,  who  is  an  authority 
on  this  subject,  supposes  that  the  remarkable  relic  on 


• 


•I  i 


Dun  Add  was  made  for  the  inauguration  of  Fergus  More 
Mac  Erca,  the  first  king  of  Dalriada,  who  died  in  Scot- 
land at  the  beginning  of  the  sixth  century,  and  to  have 
been  the  exact  measure  of  his  foot. 

King  in  his  Munimenta  Antigua  mentions  that  in  the 
island  of  Islay  there  was  on  a  mound  or  hill  where  the 
high  court  of  judicature  sat,  a  large  stone  fixed,  about 
seven  feet  square,  in  which  there  was  a  cavity  or  deep 
impression  made  to  receive  the  feet  of  Macdonald,  who 
was  crowned  King  of  the  Isles  standing  on  this  stone, 
and  swore  that  he  would  continue  his  vassals  in  the 
possession  of  their  lands,  and  do  impartial  justice  to 
all  his  subjects.  His  father's  sword  was  then  put  into 
his  hand,  and  the  Bishop  of  Argyle  and  seven  priests 
anointed  him  king  in  presence  of  all  the  heads  of  the 
tribes  in  the  Isles  and  mainland,  and  at  the  same  time 
an  orator  rehearsed  a  catalogue  of  his  ancestors.  In 
the  year  183 1,  when  a  mound  locally  known  as  the 
"  Fairy  Knowe,"  in  the  parish  of  Carmylie,  Forfarshire, 
was  levelled  in  the  course  of  some  agricultural  improve- 
ments in  the  place,  there  was  found,  besides  stone  cists 
and  a  bronze  ring,  a  rude  boulder  almost  two  tons  in 
weight,  on  the  under  side  of  which  was  sculptured  the 
mark  of  a  human  foot.  The  mound  or  tumulus  was  in 
all  likelihood  a  moot-hill,  where  justice  was  dispensed 
and  the  chieftains  of  the  district  were  elected.  In  the 
same  county,  in  the  wild  recesses  of  Glenesk,  near  Lord 
Dalhousie's  shooting-lodge  of  Milldam,  there  is  a  rough 
granite  boulder,  on  the  upper  surface  of  which  a  small 
human  foot  is  scooped  out  with  considerable  accuracy, 
showing  traces  even  of  the  toes.  It  is  known  in  the 
glen  as  the  "  Fairy's  Footmark."  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  this  stone  was  once  used  in  connection  with 
the  ceremonial  of  inaugurating  a  chief. 

A  similar  stone,  carved  with  a  representation  of  two 
feet,  on  which  the  primitive  chiefs  stood  when  publicly 
invested  with  the  insignia  of  office,  is  still,  or  was  lately, 
in  existence  in  Ladykirk,  at  Burwick,  South  Ronaldshay, 


128 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Orkney.  A  local  tradition,  that  originated  long  after 
the  Pictish  chiefs  passed  away,  and  a  new  Norse  race, 
ignorant  of  the  customs  of  their  predecessors,  came  in, 
says  that  the  stone  in  question  was  used  by  St.  Magnus 
as  a  boat  to  ferry  him  over  the  Pentland  Firth ;  while 
an  earlier  tradition  looked  upon  it  as  a  miraculous  whale 
which  opportunely  appeared  at  the  prayer  of  the  saint 
when  about  to  be  overwhelmed  by  a  storm,  and  carried 
him  on  its  back  safely  to  the  shore,  where  it  was  con- 
verted into  a  stone,  as  a  perpetual  memorial  of  the 
marvellous  occurrence.  In  North  Yell,  Shetland,  there 
is  a  rude  stone  lying  on  the  hillside,  on  which  is  sculptured 
with  considerable  skill  the  mark  of  a  human  foot.  It  is 
known  in  the  district  as  the  "  Giant's  Step";  another  of 
the  same  kind,  it  is  said,  being  over  in  Unst.  It  is 
undoubtedly  the  stone  on  which,  in  Celtic  times,  the 
native  kings  of  this  part  were  crowned.  About  a  mile 
from  Keill,  near  Campbeltown,  a  very  old  site,  closely 
connected  with  the  early  ecclesiastical  history  of  Scotland, 
may  be  seen  on  a  rock  what  is  locally  called  the  "  Foot- 
print of  St  Columba,"  which  he  made  when  he  landed 
on  this  shore  on  one  occasion  from  lona.  It  is  very 
rude  and  much  effaced ;  but  it  carries  the  imagination 
much  farther  back  than  the  days  of  St.  Columba, — when 
a  pagan  chief  or  king  was  inaugurated  here  to  rule  over 

the  district. 

In  England  and  Wales  there  are  several  interesting 
examples  of  footprints  on  boulders  and  rocks.  A  re- 
markable Tanist  stone— which,  however,  has  no  carving 
upon  it,  I  believe — stands,  among  a  number  of  other 
and  smaller  boulders,  on  the  top  of  a  hill  near  the  village 
of  Long  Compton,  in  Cumberland.  It  is  called  "The 
King  ";  and  the  popular  rhyme  of  the  country  people — 

••  If  Long  Compton  thou  canst  see, 
Then  king  of  England  thou  shalt  be  " — 

points  to  the  fact  that  the  stone  must  have  been  once 
used  as  a  coronation-stone.  Not  far  from  the  top  of  a 
hill  near  Barmouth  in  Wales,  in  the  middle  of  a  rough 


IV 


FOOTPRINTS  IN  ROME 


129 


path,  may  be  seen  a  flat  stone,  in  which  there  is  a  foot- 
mark about  the  natural  size,  locally  known  as  "  Llan 
Maria,"  or  Mary's  step,  because  the  Virgin  Mary  once, 
it  is  supposed,  put  her  foot  on  this  rock,  and  then  walked 
down  the  hill  to  a  lower  height  covered  with  roots  of 
oak-trees.  This  impression  on  the  stone  is  associated 
with  several  stone  circles  and  cromlechs — one  of  which 
bears  upon  it  the  reputed  marks  of  Arthur's  fingers,  and 
is  called  Arthur's  Quoit — and  with  a  spring  of  water 
and  a  grove,  as  the  path  leading  to  the  hill  is  still  known 
by  a  Welsh  name  which  means  Grove  Lane ;  and  these 
associations  undoubtedly  indicate  that  the  spot  was  once 
a  moot-hill  or  prehistoric  sanctuary,  where  religious  and 
inauguration  rites  were  performed.  At  Smithhill's  Hall, 
near  Bolton-le-Moors,  there  is  still  to  be  seen  an  object 
of  curiosity  to  a  large  number  of  visitors — the  print  of  a 
man's  foot  in  the  flagstone.  It  is  said  to  have  been 
produced  by  George  Marsh,  who  suffered  martyrdom 
during  the  persecutions  of  Queen  Mary  in  1555.  When 
on  one  occasion  the  truth  of  his  words  was  called  in 
question  by  his  enemies,  he  stamped  his  foot  upon  the 
stone  on  which  he  stood,  which  ever  after  bore  the  in- 
effaceable impression  as  a  miraculous  testimony  to  his 
veracity.  This  story  must  have  been  an  after-thought, 
to  account  for  what  we  may  suppose  to  have  been  a  pre- 
historic Tanist  stone. 

In  Ireland  footmarks  are  very  numerous,  and  are 
attributed  by  the  peasantry  to  different  saints.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  S.  C.  Hall,  in  their  account  of  Ireland,  refer  to 
several  curious  examples  which  are  regarded  by  the 
people  with  superstitious  reverence,  and  are  the  occasions 
of  religious  pilgrimage.  Near  the  chapel  of  Glenfinlough, 
in  King's  County,  there  is  a  ridge  with  a  boulder  on  it 
called  the  Fairy's  Stone  or  the  Horseman's  Stone,  which 
presents  on  its  flat  surface,  besides  cup-like  hollows, 
crosses,  and  other  markings,  rudely-carved  representa- 
tions of  the  human  foot.  On  a  stone  near  Parsonstown, 
called  Fin's  Seat,  there   are   similar   impressions — also 

K 


I  « 


130 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


associated  with  crosses  and  cup-shaped  hollows  which  are 
traditionally  said  to  be  the  marks  of  Fin  Mac  Coul's 
thumb  and  fingers.  On  an  exposed  and  smooth  surface 
of  rock  on  the  northern  slope  of  the  Clare  Hills,  in  the 
townland  of  Dromandoora,  there  is  the  engraved  im- 
pression of  a  foot  clothed  with  a  sandal ;  and  near  it  is 
sculptured  on  the  rock  a  figure  resembling  the  caduceus 
of  Mercury,  while  there  are  two  cromlechs  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity.  The  inauguration-stone  of  the  Mac- 
mahons  still  exists  on  the  hill  of  Lech — formerly  called 
Mullach  Leaght,  or  "hill  of  the  stone" — three  miles 
south  of  Meaghan  ;  but  the  impression  of  the  foot  was 
unfortunately  effaced  by  the  owner  of  the  farm  about 
the  year  1809.  In  the  garden  of  Belmont  on  the 
Greencastle  road,  about  a  mile  from  Londonderry,  there 
is  the  famous  stone  of  St.  Columba,  held  in  great  venera- 
tion as  the  inauguration-stone  of  the  ancient  kings  of 
Aileach,  and  which  St.  Patrick  is  said  to  have  consecrated 
with  his  blessing.  On  this  remarkable  stone,  which  is 
about  seven  feet  square,  composed  of  a  hard  gneiss,  and 
quite  undressed  by  the  chisel,  are  sculptured  two  feet, 
right  and  left,  about  ten  inches  long  each.  Boullaye  le 
Gouze  mentions  that  in  1644  the  print  of  St.  Fin  Bar's 
foot  might  be  seen  on  a  stone  in  the  cemetery  of  the 
Cathedral  of  Cork ;  it  has  long  since  disappeared. 

In  the  Killarney  region  is  the  promontory  of  Cole- 
man's Eye — so  called  after  a  legendary  person  who 
leapt  across  the  stream,  and  left  his  footprints  impressed 
in  the  solid  rock  on  the  other  side.  These  impressions 
are  considered  Druidic,  and  are  pointed  out  as  such  to 
the  curious  stranger  by  the  guides.  Near  an  old  church 
situated  on  the  southern  slope  of  Knockpatrick,  in  the 
parish  of  Graney  in  Leinster,  there  is  a  large  flat  granite 
rock  with  the  impression  of  two  feet  clearly  defined  on 
its  surface.  Local  tradition  assigns  these  footprints  to 
St  Patrick,  who  addressed  the  people  on  this  spot,  and 
left  behind  these  enduring  signs  of  his  presence.  Allu- 
sion is  made  to  them  in  St.  Fiaca's  Hymn  to  St.  Patrick 


IV 


FOOTPRINTS  IN  ROME 


131 


— '*  He  pressed  his  foot  on  the  stone ;  its  traces  remain, 
it  wears  not."  Footprints  in  connection  with  St.  Patrick 
are  to  be  found  in  many  localities  in  Ireland,  as,  for 
instance,  on  the  seashore  south  of  Skerries,  County 
Dublin,  where  the  apostle  landed;  and  at  Skerries, 
County  Antrim,  there  are  marks  which  are  believed  to 
be  the  footprints  of  the  angel  who  appeared  to  St.  Patrick. 
In  Ossory  two  localities  are  noted  as  possessing  St.  Pat- 
rick's footprints. 

So  common  are  the  'curious  sculptures  under  con- 
sideration in  Norway  and  Sweden,  that  they  are  known 
by  the  distinct  name  of  Fotsulor^  or  Footsoles.  They 
are  marks  of  either  naked  feet,  or  of  feet  shod  with 
primitive  sandals.  On  a  rock  at  Brygdaea  in  Wester- 
botten,  in  Norway,  there  are  no  less  than  thirty  footmarks 
carved  on  a  rock  at  an  equal  distance  from  each  other. 
In  other  parts  of  Norway  these  footprints  are  mixed  up 
with  rude  outlines  of  ships,  wheels,  and  other  hdllrist- 
ningar,  or  rock-sculptures.  Holmberg  has  figured  many 
of  them  in  his  interesting  work  entitled  Scandinaviens 
Hdllristningar.  At  Lokeberg  Bohnslau,  Sweden,  there 
is  a  group  of  ten  pairs  of  footmarks,  associated  with  cup- 
shaped  hollows  and  ship-carvings ;  and  at  Backa,  in  the 
same  district,  several  pairs  of  feet,  or  rather  shoe-marks, 
are  engraved  upon  a  rock.  In  Denmark  not  a  few 
examples  of  artificial  foot-tracks  have  been  observed  and 
described  by  Dr.  Petersen.  One  was  found  on  a  slab 
belonging  to  the  covering  of  a  gallery  in  the  inside  of  a 
tomb  in  the  island  of  Seeland,  and  another  on  one  of 
the  blocks  of  stone  surrounding  a  tumulus  in  the  island 
of  Laaland.  In  both  cases  the  soles  of  the  feet  are 
represented  as  being  covered ;  and  in  all  probability 
they  belong  to  the  late  stone  or  earlier  bronze  age. 
With  these  sepulchral  marks  are  associated  curious 
Danish  legends,  which  refer  them  to  real  impressions  of 
human  feet.  The  islands  of  Denmark  were  supposed 
to  have  been  made  by  enchanters,  who  wished  for 
greater  facilities  for  going  to  and  fro,  and  dropped  them 


132 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IV 


FOOTPRINTS  IN  ROME 


133 


1    I 


in  the  sea  as  stations  or  stepping-stones  on  their  way ; 
and  hence,  in  a  region  where  the  popular  imagination 
poetises  the  commonest  material  objects,  and  is  saturated 
with  stories  of  elves  and  giants,  with  magic  swords,  and 
treasures  guarded   by   dragons,   it  was  not   difficult  to 
conclude   that    these   mysterious    foot -sculptures   were 
made  by  the  tread  of  supernatural  beings.      Near  the 
station  of  Sens,  in  France,  there  is  a  curious  dolmen,  on 
one  of  whose  upright  stones  or  props  are  carved  two 
human  feet.     And  farther  north,    in   Brittany,  upon  a 
block  of  stone  in  the  barrow  or  tumulus  of  Petit  Mont 
at  Arzon,  may  be  seen  carved  an  outline  of  the  soles  of 
two  human  feet,  right  and  left,  with  the  impressions  of 
the  toes  very  distinctly  cut,  like  the  marks  left  by  a 
■  person   walking    on   the   soft   sandy   shore   of  the   sea. 
They  are  surrounded  by  a  number  of  waving  circular 
and  serpentine  lines  exceedingly  curious.      On  Calais 
pier  may  be  seen  a  footprint  where  Louis  XVIII.  landed 
in  1814  ;  and  on  the  rocks  of  Magdesprung,  a  village  in 
the  Hartz  Mountains,  a  couple  of  hundred  feet  apart, 
are  two  immense  footprints,  which  tradition  ascribes  to 
a  leap  made  by  a  huge  giantess  from  the  clouds  for  the 
purpose  of  rescuing  one  of  her  maidens  from  the  violence 
of  an  ancient  baron. 

In  not  a  few  places  in  our  own  country  and  on  the 
Continent,  rough  misshapen  marks  on  rocks  and  stones, 
bearing  a  fanciful  resemblance  to  the  outline  of  the 
human  foot,  have  been  supposed  by  popular  superstition 
to  have  been  made  by  Satan.  Every  classical  student  is 
familiar  with  the  account  which  Herodotus  gives  of  the 
print  of  Hercules  shown  by  the  Scythians  in  his  day 
upon  a  rock  near  the  river  Tyras,  the  modern  Dnieper. 
It  was  said  to  resemble  the  footstep  of  a  man,  only  that 
it  was  two  cubits  long.  He  will  also  recall  the  descrip- 
tion given  by  the  same  gossipy  writer  of  the  Temple  of 
Perseus  in  the  Thebaic  district  of  Egypt,  in  which  a 
sandal  worn  by  the  god,  two  cubits  in  length,  occasion- 
ally made  its  appearance  as  a  token  of  the  visit  of  Perseus 


to  the  earth,  and  a  sign  of  prosperity  to  the  land.  Pytha- 
goras measured  similar  footprints  at  Olympia,  and  cal- 
culated "  ex  pede  Herculem  "  !  Still  more  famous  was 
the  mark  on  the  volcanic  rock  on  the  shore  of  Lake 
Regillus — the  scene  of  the  memorable  battle  in  which 
the  Romans,  under  the  dictator  Posthumius,  defeated 
the  powerful  confederation  of  the  Latin  tribes  under  the 
Tarquins.  According  to  tradition,  the  Roman  forces 
were  assisted  by  Castor  and  Pollux,  who  helped  them  to 
achieve  their  signal  victory.  The  mark  was  supposed  to 
have  been  left  by  the  horse  of  one  of  the  great  twins 
"who  fought  so  well  for  Rome,"  as  Macaulay  says  in  his 
spirited  ballad.  On  the  way  to  the  famous  convent  of 
Monte  Casino,  very  near  the  door,  there  is  a  cross  in 
the  middle  of  the  road.  In  front  of  it  a  grating  covers 
the  mark  of  a  knee,  which  is  said  to  have  been  left  in 
the  rock  by  St.  Benedict,  when  he  knelt  there  to  ask  a 
blessing  from  heaven  before  laying  the  foundation-stone 
of  his  convent.  As  the  site  of  the  monastery  was  pre- 
viously occupied  by  a  temple  of  Apollo,  and  a  grove 
sacred  to  Venus,  where  the  inhabitants  of  the  surround- 
ing locality  worshipped  as  late  as  the  sixth  century, — to 
which  circumstance  Dante  alludes, — it  is  probable  that 
the  sacred  mark  on  the  rock  may  have  belonged  to  the 
old  pagan  idolatry,  and  have  been  a  cup-marked  stone 
connected  with  sacrificial  libations. 

On  many  rocks  of  the  United  States  of  America  may 
be  seen  human  footprints,  either  isolated  or  connected 
with  other  designs  belonging  to  the  pictorial  system  of 
the  Aborigines,  and  commemorating  incidents  which 
they  thought  worthy  of  being  preserved.  In  the  collec- 
tion of  the  Smithsonian  Museum  are  three  large  stone 
slabs  having  impressions  of  the  human  foot.  On  two 
slabs  of  sandstone,  carefully  cut  from  rocks  on  the  banks 
of  the  Missouri,  may  be  seen  respectively  two  impressions 
of  feet,  carved  apparently  with  mocassins,  such  as  are 
worn  at  the  present  day  by  the  Sioux  and  other  Indians. 
The  other  specimen  is  a  flat  boulder  of  white  quartz, 


134 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


obtained  in  Gasconade  County,  Missouri,  which  bears  on 
one  of  its  sides  the  mark  of  a  naked  foot,  each  toe  being 
distinctly  scooped  out  and  indicated.  The  footmark  is 
surrounded  by  a  number  of  cup-shaped  depressions.  In 
many  parts  of  Dacotah,  where  the  route  is  difficult  to  find, 
rocks  occur  with  human  footprints  carved  upon  them 
which  were  probably  meant  to  serve  as  geographical  land- 
marks— as  they  invariably  indicate  the  best  route  to  some 
Indian  encampment  or  to  the  shallow  parts  of  some  deep 
river.  Among  other  places  these  footprints  have  been 
met  with  on  the  Blue  Mountains  between  Georgia  and 
North  Carolina,  and  also  on  the  Kenawha  River.  Some 
stir  was  made  two  years  ago  by  the  reported  discovery 
of  the  prints  of  human  feet  in  a  stone  quarry  on  the 
coast  of  Lake  Managua  in  Nicaragua.  The  footprints 
are  remarkably  sharp  and  distinct ;  one  seems  that  of  a 
little  child.  The  stone  in  which  they  are  impressed  is  a 
spongy  volcanic  tuff,  and  the  layer  superimposed  upon 
them  in  the  quarry  was  of  similar  material.  These  pre- 
historic footprints  were  doubtless  accidentally  impressed 
upon  the  volcanic  stone,  and  would  seem  to  throw  back 
the  age  of  man  on  the  earth  to  a  most  remote  antiquity. 
In  Equatorial  Africa  footprints  have  also  been  found, 
and  are  associated  with  the  folklore  of  the  country. 
Stanley,  in  his  Dark  Continent,  tells  us  that  in  the 
legendary  history  of  Uganda,  Kimera,  the  third  in 
descent  from  Ham,  was  so  large  and  heavy  that  he  made 
marks  in  the  rocks  wherever  he  trod.  The  impression 
of  one  of  his  feet  is  shown  at  Uganda  on  a  rock  near 
the  capital,  Ulagolla.  It  was  made  by  one  of  his  feet 
slipping  while  he  was  in  the  act  of  hurling  his  spear  at 
an  elephant.  In  the  South  Sea  Islands  department  of 
the  British  Museum  is  an  impression  of  a  gigantic  foot- 
step five  feet  in  length. 

The  connection  of  prehistoric  footprints  with  sacred 
sites  and  places  of  sepulture  would  indicate  that  they 
had  a  religious  significance — an  idea  still  further  strength- 
ened by  the  fact  of  their  being  frequently  associated  with 


\ 


IV 


FOOTPRINTS  IN  ROME 


135 


holy  wells  and  groves,  and  with  cup-shaped  marks  on 
cromlechs  or  sacrificial  altars,  which  are  supposed  to 
have  been  used  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  libations ; 
while  their  universal  distribution  points  to  a  hoary  anti- 
quity, when  a  primitive  natural  cultus  spread  over  the 
whole  earth,  traces  of  which  are  found  in  every  land, 
behind  the  more  elaborate  and  systematic  faith  which 
afterwards  took  its  place.  They  are  probably  among  the 
oldest  stone-carvings  that  have  been  left  to  us,  and  were 
executed  by  rude  races  with  rude  implements  either  in 
the  later  stone  or  early  bronze  age.  Their  subsequent 
dedication  to  holy  persons  in  Christian  times  was  in  all 
likelihood  only  a  survival  of  their  original  sacred  use  long 
ages  after  the  memory  of  the  particular  rites  and  cere- 
monies connected  with  them  passed  away.  A  consider- 
able proportion  of  the  sacred  marks  are  said  to  be  im- 
pressions of  the  female  foot,  attributed  to  the  Virgin 
Mary ;  and  in  this  circumstance  we  may  perhaps  trace  a 
connection  with  the  worship  of  the  receptive  element  in 
nature,  which  was  also  a  distinctive  feature  of  primitive 
religion. 

It  is  strange  how  traces  of  this  primitive  worship  of 
footprints  survive,  not  merely  in  the  mythical  stories  and 
superstitious  practices  connected  with  the  objects  them- 
selves, but  also  in  curious  rites  and  customs  that  at  first 
sight  might  seem  to  have  had  no  connection  with  them. 
The  throwing  of  the  shoe  after  a  newly-married  couple  is 
said  to  refer  to  the  primitive  mode  of  marriage  by  capture; 
but  there  is  equal  plausibility  in  referring  it  to  the  pre- 
historic worship  of  the  footprint  as  a  symbol  of  the 
powers  of  nature.  To  the  same  original  source  we  may 
perhaps  attribute  the  custom  connected  with  the  Levirate 
law  in  the  Bible,  when  the  woman  took  off  the  shoe  of 
the  kinsman  who  refused  to  marry  her,  whose  name 
should  be  afterwards  called  in  Israel  "  the  house  of  him 
that  hath  his  shoe  loosed." 

In  regard  to  the  general  subject,  it  may  be  said  that 
we  can  discern  in  the  primitive  adoration  of  footprints  a 


i  j{ 


136 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP.  IV. 


somewhat  advanced  stage  in  the  rehgious  thoughts  of 
man.  He  has  got  beyond  total  unconsciousness  of  God, 
and  beyond  totemism  or  the  mere  worship  of  natural 
objects — trees,  streams,  stones,  animals,  etc.  He  has 
reached  the  conception  of  a  deity  who  is  of  a  different 
nature  from  the  objects  around  him,  and  whose  place  of 
abode  is  elsewhere.  He  worships  the  impression  of  the 
foot  for  the  sake  of  the  being  who  left  it;  and  the 
impression  helps  him  to  realise  the  presence  and  to  form 
a  picture  of  his  deity.  That  deity  is  not  a  part  of  nature, 
because  he  can  make  nature  plastic  to  his  tread,  and 
leave  his  footmark  on  the  hard  rock  as  if  it  were  soft 
mud.  He  thinks  of  him  as  the  author  and  controller 
of  nature,  and  for  the  first  time  rises  to  the  conception 
of  a  supernatural  being. 


CHAPTER    V 


THE    ROMAN    FORUM 


No  spot  on  earth  has  a  grander  name  or  a  more  impos- 
ing history  than  the  Roman  Forum.  Its  origin  takes  us 
far  back  to  geological  ages — to  a  period  modern  indeed 
in  the  inarticulate  annals  of  the  earth,  but  compared  with 
which  even  those  great  periods  which  mark  the  rise  and 
fall  of  empires  are  but  as  the  running  of  the  sands  in  an 
hour-glass.  It  opens  up  a  wonderful  chapter  in  the 
earth's  stony  book.  Everywhere  on  the  site  and  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Rome  striking  indications  of  ancient 
volcanoes  abound.  The  whole  region  is  as  certainly  of 
igneous  origin,  and  was  the  centre  of  as  violent  fiery 
action,  as  the  vicinity  of  Naples.  The  volcanic  energy 
of  Italy  seems  to  have  begun  first  in  this  district,  and 
when  exhausted  there,  to  have  passed  gradually  to  the 
south,  where  Vesuvius,  Etna,  and  Stromboli  witness  to 
the  great  furnace  that  is  still  burning  fiercely  under  the 
beautiful  land.  No  spectacle  could  have  been  more 
sublime  than  that  which  the  Roman  Campagna  pre- 
sented at  this  period,  when  no  less  than  ten  volcanoes 
were  in  full  or  intermittent  action,  and  poured  their 
clouds  of  smoke  and  flame  into  the  lurid  sky  all  around 
the  horizon.  Up  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains  the  sea 
covered  the  vast  plain ;  and  the  action  of  these  waves  of 
fire  and  steaming  floods  forms  a  natural  epic  of  the 
grandest  order.  Prodigious  quantities  of  ashes  and 
cinders  were  discharged  from  the  craters ;   and   these, 


138 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


139 


deposited  and  hardened  by  long  pressure  under  water, 
formed  the  reddish-brown  earthy  rock  called  tufa,  of 
which  the  seven  hills  of  Rome  are  composed. 

When  the  sea  retired,  or  rather  when  the  land  rose 
suddenly  or  gradually,  and  the  volcanoes  became  extinct, 
the  streams  which  descended  from  the  mountains  and 
watered  the  recovered  land  spread  themselves  out  in 
numerous  fresh-water  lakes,  which  stood  an  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  higher  than  the  present  bed  of  the  Tiber.  In 
these  lakes  were  formed  two  kinds  of  fresh-water  strata — 
the  first  composed  of  sand  and  marl ;  and  the  second, 
where  mineral  springs  gushed  forth  through  the  volcanic 
rock,  of  travertine — a  peculiar  reddish-brown  or  yellow 
calcareous  rock,  of  which  St.  Peter's  and  many  of  the 
buildings  of  modern  Rome  are  composed.  We  find 
lacustrine  marls  on  the  sides  of  the  Esquiline  Hill  where 
it  slopes  down  into  the  Forum,  and  fresh-water  bivalve 
and  univalve  shells  in  the  ground  under  the  equestrian 
statue  of  Marcus  Aurelius  on  the  Capitol ;  while  on  the 
face  of  the  Aventine  Hill,  overhanging  the  Tiber  at  a 
height  of  ninety  feet,  is  a  cliff  of  travertine,  which  is  half 
a  mile  long.  The  lakes  which  formed  these  deposits 
must  have  covered  their  sites  for  many  ages.  At  last, 
by  some  new  change  of  level,  the  lakes  retired,  and  the 
Tiber  scooped  out  for  itself  its  present  channel  to  the 
sea. 

When  man  came  upon  the  scene  we  have  no  definite 
information  ;  but  numerous  flints  and  stone-weapons  have 
been  found  among  the  black  pumice  breccias  of  the 
Campagna  mixed  with  remains  of  the  primitive  bison, 
the  elephant,  and  the  rhinoceros.  Human  eyes  must 
therefore  have  gazed  upon  the  volcanoes  of  the  Roman 
plain.  Human  beings,  occupying  the  outposts  of  the 
Sabine  Hills,  must  have  seen  that  plain  broken  up  by 
the  sea  into  a  complicated  archipelago,  and  beheld  in 
the  very  act  of  formation  that  wonderful  region  destined 
long  ages  afterwards  to  be  the  scene  of  some  of  the 
greatest  events  in   human  history.      The  Alban   Hills, 


whose  present  quiet  beauty,  adorned  with  white  gem-like 
towns,  and  softened  with  the  purple  hues  of  heaven, 
strikes  every  visitor  with  admiration,  were  active  volcanoes 
pouring  streams  of  lava  down  into  the  plain  even  after 
the  foundation   of  the  Eternal  City.      Livy  mentions 
that  under  the  third  king  of  Rome,  a  shower  of  stones, 
accompanied  by  a  loud  noise,  was  thrown  up  from  the 
Alban  Mount — a  prodigy  which  gave  rise  to  a  nine  days' 
festival  annually  celebrated  long  after  by  the  people  of 
Latium.      The  remarkable  funereal  urns  found  buried 
under  a  bed  of  volcanic  matter  between  Marino   and 
Castel  Gandolfo  on  the  Alban  Hills  are  an  incontro- 
vertible proof  that  showers  of  volcanic  ashes  must  have 
been  ejected  from  the  neighbouring  volcano  when  the 
country  was  inhabited  by  human  beings ;  nay,  when  the 
inhabitants  were  far  advanced  in  civilisation,  for  among 
the  objects  contained  in  the  funereal  urns  were  imple- 
ments of  writing.     At  the  close  of  the  skirmish  between 
the  Romans  and  Etruscans,  near  Albano,  in  which  Aruns, 
the  son  of  Lars  Porsenna,  was  slain,  whose  tomb  niay 
still  be  seen  on  the  spot,  a  noise  like  that  which  Livy 
mentions  was  heard  among  the  surrounding  hills. 

But  the  most  extraordinary  of  all  the  volcanic  phen- 
omena within  the  historical  period  was  the  sudden  rising 
on  two  memorable  occasions  of  the  waters  of  the  Alban 
Lake,  which  now  He  deep  down  within  the  basin  of  an 
extinct  crater.  The  first  swallowed  up  the  royal  palace 
of  Alba,  and  was  so  sudden  and  violent  that  neither  the 
king  nor  any  of  his  household  had  time  to  escape.  The 
other  occurred  during  the  romantic  siege  of  the  Etruscan 
city  of  Veil,  near  Rome,  by  Camillus,  four  hundred  years 
before  Christ.  The  waters  on  that  occasion  rose  two 
hundred  and  forty  feet  in  the  crater  almost  to  the  very  edge, 
and  threatened  to  overflow  and  inundate  the  surrounding 
country,  when  they  were  withdrawn  by  a  subterranean  canal 
cut  in  the  rock,  and  poured  into  the  Tiber  by  a  connecting 
stream.  This  emissary,  which  may  still  be  seen,  was  con- 
structed owing  to  a  hint  given  by  an  Etruscan  soothsayer. 


I  f 


140 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


that  the  city  of  Veii  would  not  be  captured  till  the  Alban 
Lake  was  emptied  into  the  sea.  The  deep  winding 
cavern  on  the  face  of  the  Aventine  Hill,  said  to  have 
been  inhabited  by  the  monstrous  giant  Cacus,  the  son  of 
Vulcan,  who  vomited  fire,  and  was  the  terror  of  the 
surrounding  inhabitants,  was  evidently  of  volcanic  origin ; 
and  the  local  tradition  from  which  Virgil  concocted  his 
fable  was  undoubtedly  derived  from  a  vivid  recollection 
of  the  active  operations  of  a  volcano.  When  Evander, 
as  described  in  the  eighth  Aincid^  conducted  his  dis- 
tinguished guest  to  the  top  of  the  Tarpeian  Rock,  in 
after  ages  so  famous  as  the  place  of  public  execution, 
and  composed  of  very  hard  lava,  he  assured  him  that  an 
awful  terror  possessed  the  place,  and  that  some  unknown 
god  had  his  abode  there.  The  shepherds  said  it  was 
Jupiter,  and  that  they  had  often  seen  him  kindling  his 
lightnings  and  hurling  his  thunderbolts  from  thence. 
Evander  then  pointed  to  the  ruined  cities  of  Saturnia 
and  Janiculum,  on  either  side  of  the  Tiber,  whose 
destruction  had  been  caused  by  the  wrath  of  the  god. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  fable  clothed  with  super- 
natural colouring  some  volcanic  phenomena  which  had 
taken  place  on  this  spot  during  the  human  period.  Even 
as  late  as  three  hundred  and  ninety  years  after  the 
foundation  of  Rome,  a  chasm  opened  in  the  Forum,  and 
emitted  flames  and  pestilential  vapours.  An  oracle 
declared  that  this  chasm  would  not  close  until  what  con- 
stituted the  glory  of  Rome  should  be  cast  into  it. 
Marcus  Curtius  asked  if  anything  in  Rome  was  more 
precious  than  arms  and  valour ;  and  arraying  himself  in 
his  armour,  and  mounting  on  a  horse  splendidly  equipped, 
he  leapt  in  the  presence  of  the  Roman  people  into  the 
abyss,  when  it  instantly  closed  for  ever.  We  thus  see 
that  the  geology  of  the  Roman  plain  throws  no  incon- 
siderable light  upon  the  early  history  and  traditions  of 
the  Eternal  City,  and  brings  within  the  cycle  of  natural 
phenomena  what  were  long  supposed  to  be  purely  fabu- 
lous incidents,  the  inventions  of  a  poetic  imagination.     I 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


141 


have  dwelt  upon  these  geological  incidents  so  fully, 
because  nowhere  does  one  realise  the  striking  contrast 
between  the  shortness  of  man's  existence  on  earth,  as  in 
places  like  the  Roman  plain,  where  the  traces  of  cosmical 
energy  have  been  greatest  and  most  enduring. 

The  volcanic  origin  of  the  Roman  Forum  suggests  the 
curious  idea  of  the  intimate  connection  of  some  of  the 
greatest  events  of  history  with  volcanic  centres.  Where 
the  strife  of  nature  has  been  fiercest,  there  by  a  strange 
coincidence  the  storm  of  human  passion  has  been  greatest. 
The  geological  history  of  a  region  is  most  frequently  typi- 
cal of  its  human  history.  We  can  predicate  of  a  scene 
where  the  cosmical  disturbance  has  been  great, — where 
fire  and  flood  have  contended  for  the  mastery,  leaving 
the  effects  of  their  strife  in  deepening  valleys  and  ascend- 
ing hills, — that  there  man  has  had  a  strangely  varied  and 
eventful  career.  The  strongholds  and  citadels  of  the  earth, 
where  the  great  battles  of  freedom  and  civilisation  have 
been  fought,  were  all  untold  ages  previously  the  centres 
of  violent  plutonic  disturbances.  Edinburgh  Castle,  en- 
throned on  its  trap-rock,  once  the  centre  of  a  volcano, 
is  associated  with  the  most  stirring  and  important  events 
in  the  history  of  Scotland ;  Stirling  Castle  rises  on  its 
trap-rock  erupted  by  volcanic  action  above  a  vast  plain, 
across  which  a  hundred  battles  have  swept ;  Dumbarton 
Castle,  crowning  its  trappean  promontory,  has  represented 
in  its  civil  history  the  protracted  periods  of  earthquake 
and  eruption  concerned  in  the  formation  of  its  site ; 
while  standing  in  solitude  amid  the  stormy  waters  of  the 
Firth  of  Forth,  the  Bass  Rock,  once  a  scene  of  fiery  con- 
fusion, of  roaring  waves  and  heaving  earthquakes,  has 
formed  alternately  the  prison  where  religious  liberty  has 
been  strangled,  and  the  fortress  where  patriotism  has 
taken  its  last  stand  against  the  forces  of  the  invader. 
Palestine,  Greece,  Italy,  Switzerland,  and  Scotland,  the 
countries  that  have  had  the  most  remarkable  history, 
and  have  done  most  to  advance  the  human  race,  are 
distinguished  above  other  countries  for  their  geological 


142 


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CHAP. 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


143 


convulsions  and  revolutions.  The  Roman  Forum  is 
thus  but  one  specimen  among  numerous  others  of  a  law 
of  Providence  which  has  associated  the  strife  of  nature 
with  the  strife  of  man,  and  caused  the  ravages  of  the 
most  terrible  elements  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  highest 
development  of  the  human  race. 

Between  the  Roman  Forum  and  the  valley  beneath 
Edinburgh  Castle  we  can  trace  a  striking  resemblance, 
not  only  in  their  volcanic  origin  and  the  connection  be- 
tween their  geological  history  and  their  analogous  civil 
history,  but  also  in  the  fact  that  they  were  both  filled 
with  small  lakes.  Between  the  ridges  of  the  old  and 
new  town  of  Edinburgh,  where  the  railway  runs  through 
Princes  Street  Gardens,  there  was  in  the  memory  of 
many  now  living  a  considerable  collection  of  water  called 
the  North  Loch.  In  like  manner,  in  the  hollow  of  the 
Roman  Forum  there  was  originally  a  small  lake,  a  relic 
of  the  numerous  lakes  of  the  Campagna,  which  remained 
after  the  last  elevation  of  the  land,  and  which  existed 
pretty  far  on  into  the  human  period.  It  was  fed  by 
three  streams  flowing  from  the  Palatine,  the  Capitoline, 
and  the  Esquiline  Hills,  which  now  run  underground 
and  meet  at  this  point. 

Let  us  picture  to  ourselves  the  appearance  of  this 
lake  embosomed  in  the  hollow  of  its  hills  in  the  far-off 
pastoral  times,  when  the  mountains  and  the  high  table- 
lands of  Italy  were  the  chosen  territory  of  those  tribes 
whose  property  consisted  chiefly  in  their  flocks.  The 
hills  of  Rome,  whose  elevation  was  far  more  conspicuous 
in  ancient  times  than  it  is  now,  presented  a  precipitous 
front  of  dark  volcanic  rock  to  the  lake.  Their  slopes 
were  covered  with  grass  and  with  natural  copse-wood, 
intermixed  with  tall  ilex  trees,  or  umbrella  pines ;  while 
on  their  summits  were  little  villages  surrounded  with 
Cyclopean  walls  perched  there  not  only  for  security,  but 
also  for  the  healthier  air,  just  as  we  see  at  the  present 
day  all  over  Italy.  On  the  summit  of  the  Capitoline 
and    Esquiline    Hills  were    Sabine    settlements,   whose 


origin  is  lost  in  the  mists  of  antiquity.  To  the  green 
wooded  slopes  of  the  Palatine,  according  to  a  beautiful 
tradition,  sixty  years  before  the  destruction  of  Troy, 
came  Evander  and  his  Arcadians  from  Greece,  and 
settled  there  with  their  flocks  and  herds,  and  led  a  quiet 
idyllic  life.  According  to  another  tradition,  ^neas, 
after  the  destruction  of  Troy,  came  to  this  spot,  and 
marrying  the  daughter  of  a  neighbouring  king,  became 
the  ancestor  of  the  twins  Romulus  and  Remus,  the 
popular  founders  of  Rome,  whose  romantic  exposure 
and  nourishment  by  a  she-wolf  are  known  to  every 
schoolboy.  Romulus,  after  slaying  his  brother,  built  a 
stronghold  on  the  Palatine,  which  he  opened  as  an 
asylum  for  outlaws  and  runaway  slaves,  who  supported 
themselves  chiefly  by  plunder.  The  community  of  this 
robber-city  consisting  almost  entirely  of  males,  they 
provided  themselves  with  wives  by  the  famous  stratagem 
known  as  the  "Rape  of  the  Sabine  women."  Seizing 
the  daughters  of  their  neighbours,  the  Sabines  of  the 
Capitoline  and  Esquiline  Hills,  on  a  festive  occasion, 
they  carried  them  away  with  them  to  their  fortress.  A 
number  of  sanguinary  fights  took  place  in  consequence 
of  this  rape  around  the  swampy  margin  of  the  lake.  In 
the  last  of  these  engagements  the  combatants  were 
separated  by  the  Sabine  women  suddenly  rushing  in 
with  their  children  between  their  fathers  and  brothers 
and  the  men  who  had  become  their  husbands.  A 
mutual  reconciliation  then  ensued,  and  the  two  com- 
munities contracted  a  firm  and  close  alliance.  The 
Palatine,  Capitoline,  and  Esquiline  villages  became 
henceforth  one  city,  to  which  from  time  to  time  by  con- 
quest new  accessions  were  made,  until  at  last  all  the 
different  settlements  on  the  seven  hills  of  Rome  were 
brought  under  one  rule,  and  surrounded  by  a  common 
wall  of  defence.  Mommsen,  Niebuhr,  Sir  George 
Cornewall  Lewis,  and  other  critics,  have  made  sad 
havoc  with  these  romantic  stories  of  the  origin  of  Rome. 
But  although  much  of  the  fabulous  undoubtedly  mingles 


144 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


145 


I  i 


I 


with  them — for  the  early  history  ot  Rome  was  not 
written  till  it  had  become  a  powerful  state,  and  then  the 
historian  had  no  records  of  days  long  past  save  what 
were  embodied  in  popular  tradition  and  poetry — there 
has  recently  been  a  reaction  in  favour  of  them,  and  they 
must  ever  be  interesting  on  account  of  their  own 
intrinsic  charm,  the  element  of  truth  which  they  contain, 
and  the  indelible  associations  of  schoolboy  life. 

When  a  joint  city  was  thus  compacted  and  called 
_Rome — possibly  its  old  Pelasgic  appellation— the  first 
effort  of  the  confederated  settlements  was  to  drain  the 
geological  lake  in  the  centre  of  the  city  into  the  Tiber, 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant.  This  they  did  by  means  of 
the  celebrated  Cloaca  Maxima,  a  part  of  which  may  be 
seen  open  at  the  present  day  under  the  pavement  of  the 
Roman  Forum,  near  the  Temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux. 
This  common  sewer  of  Rome  is  one  of  its  oldest  and 
greatest  relics.  It  was  built  by  the  first  Tarquin,  the 
fifth  king  of  Rome,  a  century  and  a  half  after  the 
foundation  of  the  city ;  and  although  two  thousand  five 
hundred  years  have  passed  away  since  the  architect 
formed  without  cement  its  massive  archway  of  huge 
volcanic  stones  found  on  the  spot,  and  during  all  the 
time  it  has  been  subjected  to  the  shock  of  numerous 
earthquakes,  inundations  of  the  Tiber,  and  the  crash  of 
falling  ruins,  it  still  serves  its  original  purpose  as  effectu- 
ally as  ever,  and  promises  to  stand  for  as  many  ages  in 
the  future  as  it  has  stood  in  the  past.  It  is  commonly 
said  that  we  owe  the  invention  of  the  arch  to  the 
Romans ;  and  this  work  of  undoubted  Etruscan  archi- 
tecture is  usually  considered  as  among  the  very  first 
applications  of  the  principle.  But  the  arched  drains 
and  doorways  discovered  by  Layard  at  Nineveh  prove 
that  the  Assyrians  employed  the  arch  centuries  before 
Rome  was  founded.  It  had  however  only  a  subordinate 
place  and  a  very  limited  application  in  the  ancient 
architecture  of  the  East ;  and  it  was  left  to  the  Romans 
to  give  it  due  prominence  in  crossing  wide  spaces,  to 


make  it  "the  bow  of  promise,"  the  bridge  over  which 
they  passed  to  the  dominion  of  the  world.  The  Cloaca 
Maxima  is  a  tunnel  roofed  with  two  concentric  rings 
of  enormous  stones,  the  innermost  having  an  interior 
diameter  of  nearly  fourteen  feet,  the  height  being  about 
twelve  feet.  So  capacious  was  it  that  Strabo  mentions 
that  a  waggon  loaded  with  hay  might  find  room  in  it ; 
and  it  is  recorded  that  the  Consul  Agrippa  passed 
through  it  in  a  boat.  The  mouth  of  the  Cloaca  opens 
into  the  Tiber,  near  the  little  round  temple  of  Hercules 
in  the  Forum  Boarium ;  but  it  is  often  invisible  owing 
to  the  flooding  of  the  river ;  and  even  when  the  Tiber 
is  low,  so  much  has  its  bed  been  silted  up  that  only 
about  three  feet  below  the  keystone  of  the  sewer  can  be 
seen.  Subsequently  all  the  sewers  of  Rome  were  con- 
nected with  it ;  and  at  the  present  day  the  nose  gives 
infallible  proof  that  it  carries  off  a  very  large  portion  of 
the  pollution  of  the  modern  city. 

By  the  Cloaca  Maxima,  the  valley  between  the 
Capitoline  and  Palatine  Hills  was  for  the  first  time  made 
dry  land ;  all  indeed,  except  a  small  swamp  which 
remained  in  one  corner  of  it  to  a  later  age,  and  which 
the  great  sewer  was  not  deep  enough  to  drain  entirely. 
Reeds  grew  around  its  margin,  and  boats  were  employed 
to  cross  it,  as  Ovid  tells  us.  The  name  Velabrum — 
from  an  Etruscan  root,  signifying  water,  occurring  in 
some  other  Italian  names  such  as  Velletri,  Velino — 
still  given  to  this  locality,  where  a  church  stood  in  the 
middle  ages  called  S.  Silvestro  in  Lacu,  commemorates 
the  existence  of  the  primeval  lake ;  while  the  legend  of 
the  casting  ashore  of  Romulus  and  Remus  on  the  slope 
of  the  Palatine  points  to  the  gradual  desiccation  of  the 
spot.  On  the  level  ground,  recovered  in  this  way  from 
the  waters,  was  formed  the  Roman  Forum ;  the  word 
Forum  meaning  simply  an  open  space,  surrounded  by 
buildings  and  porticoes,  which  served  the  purpose  of  a 
market-place,  a  court  of  justice,  or  an  exchange ;  for  the 
Romans   transacted   more  of  their  public  and   private 


^    I 


146 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


147 


it 


business  out  of  doors  than  the  severe  climate  of  our 
northern  latitudes  will  permit  us  to  do.  On  this 
common  ground  representatives  of  the  separate  com- 
munities located  on  the  different  hills  of  Rome,  and 
comprehended  and  confederated  within  the  walls  of 
Servius  Tullius,  met  together  for  the  settlement  of 
affairs  that  concerned  them  all.  As  Rome  grew  in 
importance,  so  did  this  central  representative  part  of  it 
grow  with  it,  until  at  last,  in  the  time  of  the  Ccesars,  it 
became  the  heart  of  the  mighty  empire,  where  its  pulse 
beat  loudest.  There  the  fate  of  the  world  was  discussed. 
There  Cicero  spoke,  and  Coesar  ruled,  and  Horace 
meditated.  If  the  Temple  of  Jerusalem  was  the  shrine 
of  religion,  the  Forum  of  Rome  was  the  shrine  of  law ; 
and  from  thence  has  emanated  that  unrivalled  system  of 
jurisprudence  which  has  formed  the  model  of  every 
nation  since.  Being  thus  the  centre  of  the  political 
power  of  the  empire,  the  Roman  Forum  became  also 
the  focus  of  its  architectural  and  civic  splendour.  It 
was  crowded  with  marble  temples,  state  buildings,  and 
courts  of  law  to  such  an  extent  that  we  wonder  how 
there  was  room  for  them  all  within  such  a  narrow  area. 
Monuments  of  great  men,  statues  of  Greek  sculpture, 
colonnades,  and  porticoes,  rich  with  the  spoils  of  subject 
kingdoms,  adorned  its  sides.  The  whole  region  was 
resplendent  with  all  the  pomp  and  luxury  of  paganism 
in  its  proudest  hour;  the  w^ord  "ambition,"  which  came 
ultimately  to  signify  all  strivings  for  eminence,  resolving 
itself  into  the  elementary  meaning  of  a  walk  round 
the  Roman  Forum,  canvassing  for  votes  at  municipal 
elections. 

Thus  the  Forum  continued  until  the  decay  of  the  em- 
pire, when  hordes  of  invaders  buried  its  magnificence  in 
ruins.  At  the  beginning  of  the  seventh  century  it  must 
have  been  open  and  comparatively  free  from  debris^  as  is 
proved  by  the  fact  that  the  column  of  Phocas,  erected,  at 
that  time,  stood  on  the  original  pavement.  Virgil  says,  in 
his  account  of  the  romantic  interview  of  Evander  with 


^neas  on  the  spot  which  was  to  be  afterwards  Rome — 
then  a  quiet  pastoral  scene,  green  with  grass,  and  covered 
with   bushes — that  they  saw  herds  of  cattle  w^andering 
over  the  Forum,  and  browsing  on  the  rich  pasture  around 
the  shores  of  its  blue  lake.    Strange,  the  law  of  circularity, 
after  the  lapse  of  two  thousand  years,  brought  round 
the  same  state  of  things  in  that  storied  spot.     During 
the  middle  ages  the  Roman  Forum  was  known  only  as  the 
Campo  Vaccino,  the  field  of  cattle.     It  was  a  forlorn 
waste,  with  a  few  ruins  scattered  over  it,  and  two  formal 
rows  of  poplar-trees  running  down  the  middle  of  it,  and 
wild-eyed  buffaloes  and  mouse-coloured  oxen  from  the 
Campagna  wandering   over  the  solitude,  and  cropping 
the  grass  and  green  weeds  that  grew  in  the  very  heart  of 
old  Rome.      When  Gibbon  conceived  the  idea  of  the 
Decline  and  Fail  of  the  Roman  Empire^  listening  to  the 
vespers  of  the  Franciscan  friars  in  the  dim  church  of 
Ara   Coeli  in  the  neighbourhood,  the   Forum  was  an 
unsightly  piece  of  ground,  covered  with  rubbish-heaps, 
with  only  a  pillar  or  two  emerging  from  the  general  filth. 
When  Byron  stood  beside  the  "nameless  column  with 
the    buried    base,"    commemorated    in    Ciiilde   Harold, 
he   Httle   dreamt  what  a  rich  collection  of  the   relics 
of  imperial   times    lay   under   his   feet,    as   completely 
buried  by  the  wrecks  of  ages  as  Pompeii  and  Hercu- 
laneum  under  the  ashes  and  lava  of  Vesuvius.     From 
fifteen  to  twenty  feet  of  soil  had  accumulated  over  them. 
The  work  of  excavation  was  begun  seventy-five  years 
ago  by  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire,  who  spent  the  last  years 
of  her  life  in  Rome,  and  formed  the  centre  of  its  brilliant 
society.    Napoleon  III.,  the  late  Emperor  of  the  French, 
carried  on  the  task  thus  auspiciously  commenced,  for 
the  purpose  of  shedding  light  upon  the  parts  of  Roman 
history  connected  w^ith  Julius  Caesar,  the  hero  of  his  book. 
In  spite  of  much  opposition  from  the  Papal  Government, 
the  work  of  exhumation  was  continued  in  fits  and  starts 
after  the  French  emperor  had  given  it  up  ;  and  ever  since 
the  Italian  Government  have  taken  the  matter  in  hand, 


148 


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CHAP. 


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149 


I 


gangs  of  labourers  under  the  directorship  of  the  accom- 
plished Signor  Rosa  have  been  more  or  less  continually 
employed,  with  the  result  that  almost  the  whole  area  has 
been  laid  bare  from  the  Capitol  to  the  Arch  of  Titus. 
The  British  Archaeological  Society  of  Rome  has  given 
valuable  aid  according  to  the  funds  in  its  possession,  and 
the  contributions  sent  from  this  country  for  the  purpose. 
When   first   commenced,  the  changes  caused   by   these 
excavations  were  regarded  with  no  favourable  eye  by  either 
the  artists  or  the  people  of  Rome.     The  trees  were  cut 
down,   the  mantle  of   verdure   that   for  centuries   had 
covered  the  spot — Nature's  appropriate  pall  for  the  decay 
of  art — was  ruthlessly  torn  up,  and  great  unsightly  holes 
and   heaps  of  debris  utterly   destroyed  the  picturesque 
beauty  of  the  scene.     But  the  loss  to  romance  was  a 
gain  to  knowledge  ;  and  now  that  the  greatest  part  of  the 
Forum  has  been  cleared  down  to  the  ancient  pavement, 
we  are  able  to  form  a  much  more  vivid  and  accurate 
conception  of  what  the  place  must  have  been  in  the  days 
of  the  empire,  and  are  in  a  position  tO  identify  buildings 
which  previously  had  been  a  theme   for  endless  and 
violent  disputes.      It  is  a  very  interesting  and  suggestive 
coincidence  that  the  Forum  of  Rome  should  have  been 
thus  disentombed  at  the  very  time  that  Italy  rose  from  its 
grave  of  ages,  and  under  a  free  and  enlightened  govern- 
ment, having  its  centre  once  more  in  the  Eternal  City, 
proved  that  it  had  inherited  no  small  share  of  the  spirit 
of  the  heroic  past. 

Let  us  go  over  in  brief  detail  the  various  objects  of 
interest  that  may  now  be  seen  in  the  centre  of  Roman 
greatness.  Numerous  sources  of  information  exist  which 
enable  us  to  identify  these  monuments,  and  to  form 
some  idea  of  what  they  were  in  their  prime.  Among 
these  may  be  mentioned  coins  and  medals  of  the  em- 
perors, with  representations  upon  them  of  buildings  and 
sculptures  in  the  Forum;  a  marble  stone  found  at 
Ancyra,  now  Angouri  in  Phrygia,  on  which  is  a  long 
inscription    regarding    the    acts    and    achievements    of 


Augustus,  which  is  of  the  greatest  value  in  determining 
the  topography  of  the  city ;  the  bas-reliefs  on  the  Arch 
of  Constantine,  and  on  the  marble  screens  of  Trajan, 
recently  excavated  in  the  Forum  itself,  giving  a  view  of 
its  north-western  and  south-eastern  ends ;  and  the 
remains  of  the  antique  marble  plan  of  Rome,  now 
preserved  in  the  Capitoline  Museum,  originally  affixed  to 
the  wall  of  the  superb  Temple  of  Rome,  and  discovered 
in  fragments  in  1867  in  the  garden  of  the  monastery  of 
SS.  Cosma  e  Damiano.  We  also  get  most  valuable  help 
in  the  work  of  identification  from  the  Itineraries  of 
the  middle  ages — especially  from  that  of  the  celebrated 
pilgrim  from  Einsiedlen,  Zwingli's  town  in  Switzerland — 
who  visited  Rome  in  the  eighth  century,  and  left  his 
manuscript  to  his  own  abbey,  where  it  may  still  be  seen. 
A  vast  apparatus  of  learning  has  been  accumulated  from 
the  works  of  ancient  classic  authors  by  the  great  scholars 
who  have  written  on  the  historical  localities  and  buildings 
of  the  Forum,  from  Donati  to  Becker.  Nibby,  Canina, 
Ampere,  Bunsen,  Plattner,  and  Uhrlich,  in  their  magni- 
ficent works  have  supplied  a  mine  of  wealth  from 
which  most  subsequent  writers  on  the  Forum  have 
enriched  their  descriptions. 

The  direction  of  the  Forum  is  nearly  from  north  to 
south,  trending  a  little  from  north-east  to  south-west.  It 
is  surprisingly  small  to  have  contained  such  a  large 
number  of  buildings,  and  to  have  bulked  so  prominently 
in  the  eye  of  the  world ;  its  greatest  length  being  only  six 
hundred  and  seventy-one  feet,  and  its  greatest  breadth 
about  two  hundred  and  two  feet.  Beginning  at  the  north 
end,  we  see  before  us  the  vast  mass  of  the  ancient  Capitol, 
the  proudest  symbol  of  the  majesty  of  Rome,  crowned  with 
the  great  staring  medieval  structures  of  the  Roman  muni- 
cipality, rising  up  into  the  campanile  of  Michael  Angelo. 
Until  of  late  years,  this  renowned  building  was  completely 
buried  beneath  a  huge  mound  of  rubbish.  Now  that  it  has 
been  removed,  the  venerable  fabric  stands  out  distinctly  to 
view,  and  we  behold  the  massive  walls  of  the  Treasury, 


ISO 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


151 


the  Record  Office,  and  the  Senate  House.  The  lowest 
part,  constructed  of  huge  blocks  of  volcanic  stones,  was 
the  ^rarium  or  Public  Treasury,  and  is  supposed  to  have 
been  formed  out  of  the  original  wall  of  the  city  of  the 
Sabines,  which  surrounded  the  hill  of  Saturn,  as  the 
Capitoline  Mount  was  originally  called,  long  before  Romu- 
lus laid  the  foundation  of  Rome.  As  the  Roman  army 
was  paid  in  coppers,  spacious  cellars  were  required  for 
storing  the  coin,  and  these  were  provided  in  the  under- 
ground vaults  of  the  Treasury,  partially  cut  out  of  the 
volcanic  rock  of  the  Capitol,  on  which  the  building  rests. 
Above  the  Treasury,  on  the  second  floor,  we  see  the  remains 
of  the  Doric  portico  of  the  Tabularium  or  Public  Record 
Office,  where  the  records  of  Rome,  engraved  upon  bronze 
tablets,  were  kept.  The  place  is  now  converted  into  an 
architectural  museum,  where  all  the  most  interesting 
sculptured  fragments  found  in  the  Forum  are  preserved, 
and  are  exhibited  by  gaslight  owing  to  the  darkness. 
These  buildings,  it  must  be  remembered,  form  the  back 
of  the  Capitol  fronting  the  Forum.  Strickly  speaking, 
they  do  not  belong  to  the  Forum,  which  should  be 
traced  only  from  their  verge. 

The  view  on  the  other  side  of  the  Capitol,  where  a 
gently-inclined  staircase  leads  up  from  the  streets  to  the 
piazza  at  the  top,  surrounded  by  the  modern  municipal 
buildings,  raised  upon  the  ancient  substructures  above 
described,  is  quite  different.  But  the  present  aspect  of 
the  Capitol  is  quite  disappointing  to  one  who  comes  to 
it  seeking  for  evidences  of  its  former  grandeur.  There 
is  no  trace  of  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus,  to  which 
the  triumphal  processions  of  the  Roman  armies  led  up, 
gorgeous  with  all  the  attractions  of  marble  architecture, 
and  the  richest  spoils  of  the  world,  the  most  splendid 
monument  of  human  pride  which  the  world  then  con- 
tained. Probably  its  remains  were  used  up  in  the  con- 
struction of  the  gloomy  old  church  of  the  Ara  Ccelt\ 
which  is  supposed  by  most  archaeologists  to  stand 
upon  its  site.     The  Capitol,  it  may  be  remarked,  was  pre- 


cisely similar  to  the  moot-hill,  or  open-air  court,  which 
existed  in  our  own  country  in  primitive  times,  and 
where  justice  was  administered  at  regular  intervals.  The 
tradition  of  this  original  use  of  it  still  clings  to  the  place 
as  a  shadow  from  the  past.  The  hill  has  always  been 
appropriated  for  political  purposes.  It  has  continued 
from  the  earliest  days  to  be  a  centre  of  secular  as  opposed 
to  ecclesiastical  authority.  The  Popes  ceded  it  to  the 
magistracy,  whose  municipal  buildings  now  cover  it,  and 
placed  the  church  of  Ara  Coeli — the  only  one  ever  built 
on  the  Capitoline  Hill — under  their  protection.  The 
place  of  execution  was  chosen  conveniently  near  to  this 
moot-hill,  or  seat  of  justice ;  and  the  criminal,  when 
condemned,  was  speedily  executed,  by  being  hurled  over 
the  rock,  just  outside  of  the  eastern  rampart,  which 
surrounded  the  settlement.  We  can  thus  easily  under- 
stand the  association  of  the  Tarpeian  Rock  with  the 
Capitoline  Hill.  They  were  as  closely  correlated  as  the 
moot-hill  and  the  Gallow  hill  in  our  own  country.  The 
primitive  method  of  execution  derived  a  sanctity  from 
its  antiquity,  and  was  continued  far  on  into  the  most 
civilised  times  of  the  empire. 

So  densely  crowded  were  the  historical  buildings  and 
remarkable  sites  in  that  part  of  the  Forum  which  lay 
immediately  behind  the  Capitol,  that  it  is  almost  im- 
possible now  to  identify  their  position  or  remains.  This 
spot  forms  the  great  battle-ground  of  the  antiquaries, 
whose  conclusions  in  many  instances  are  mere  guess-work. 
Below  the  medieval  tower  of  the  Capitol  is  a  wide  space 
paved  with  fragments  of  coloured  marbles,  and  with 
indications  of  the  ground-plan  of  a  building.  This  is 
supposed  to  mark  the  site  of  the  Temple  of  Concord, 
erected  by  the  great  general  Camillus,  after  the  expulsion 
of  the  Gauls,  to  perpetuate  the  concord  between  the 
plebeians  and  patricians  on  the  vexed  question  of  the 
election  of  consuls.  It  was  placed  beside  the  old 
meeting-place  of  the  privileged  families.  From  the 
charred  state  of  some  of  its  sculptures  discovered  on  the 


152 


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THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


153 


spot,  it  is  supposed  to  have  been  destroyed  by  fire.  It 
was  restored  and  enlarged  a  hundred  and  twenty  years 
before  Christ  by  the  Consul  Opimius  immediately  after 
the  murder  of  Caius  Gracchus.  To  the  classical  student 
it  is  specially  interesting  as  the  place  where  Cicero  con- 
voked the  senate  after  the  discovery  of  the  Catiline  con- 
spiracy, for  the  purpose  of  fixing  the  punishment  due  to 
one  of  the  greatest  of  crimes.  Among  the  senators 
present  on  that  memorable  occasion  were  men  of  the 
highest  political  and  philosophical  renown,  including 
Caesar,  Cato,  and  Cicero.  They  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  there  was  no  such  thing  as  retribution  beyond  the 
grave,  no  future  state  of  consciousness,  no  immortality 
of  the  soul ;  consequently  death  was  considered  too  mild 
a  punishment  for  the  impious  treason  of  the  conspirators; 
and  a  penalty,  which  should  keep  alive  instead  of  extin- 
guishing suffering,  was  advocated.  We  learn  from  this 
extraordinary  argument,  as  Merivale  well  says,  how  utter 
was  the  religious  scepticism  among  the  brightest  intellects 
of  Rome  only  thirty-seven  years  before  the  coming  of 
Christ.  The  very  name  of  the  temple  itself,  dedicated 
not  to  a  divine  being  as  in  a  more  pious  age,  but  to  a 
mere  political  abstraction,  a  mere  symbol  of  a  compact 
effected  between  two  discordant  parties  in  the  state, 
indicated  how  greatly  the  Romans  had  declined  from 
their  primitive  faith. 

But  the  most  conspicuous  of  the  ancient  remains  in 
this  quarter,  and  the  first  to  attract  the  notice  of  every 
visitor,  is  the  Ionic  portico  of  eight  columns,  called 
at  first  the  Temple  of  Jupiter,  and  then  of  Vespasian, 
but  now  definitely  determined  to  be  the  Temple  of 
Saturn,  for  it  is  closely  connected  with  the  ^Erarium, 
and  the  ^rarium  is  said  by  several  ancient  authors  to 
have  led  into  the  podium  of  the  temple  by  a  doorway 
in  its  wall  still  visible.  This  temple  is  supposed  to  be 
of  very  early  origin,  and  to  have  marked  the  site  of  an 
ancient  Sabine  altar  to  the  oldest  of  the  gods  of  Italy 
long  before  the  arrival  of  the  Romans.     It  was  nearly 


entire  so  late  as  the  fifteenth  century ;  but  its  cella  was 
ruthlessly  destroyed  shortly  afterwards,  and  its  marble 
ornaments  used  for  making  lime.  The  present  group  of 
pillars  was  so  clumsily  restored  by  the  French  at  the 
begining  of  this  century  that  they  are  seen  to  differ  from 
each  other  in  diameter,  and  the  frieze  is  composed  of 
fragments  that  do  not  harmonise. 

But  the  most  remarkable  monument  of  antiquity  in 
this  part  is  the  marble  triumphal  Arch  of  Septimius 
Severus,  which  stands  in  front  of  the  ruins  of  the  Temple 
of  Concord.  It  invaded  the  site  of  the  republican 
Graecostasis,  where  foreign  ambassadors  waited  for  an 
audience  of  the  senate,  and  occupied  part  of  the  area  of 
the  Comitium,  whose  original  character  was  thereby 
destroyed ;  for  it  was  erected  at  a  time  when  men  ceased 
to  care  for  the  venerable  associations  connected  with 
the  early  history  of  their  city.  One  gazes  upon  this 
monument  of  Roman  power  and  pride  with  deep  respect, 
for  it  has  stood  nearly  seventeen  centuries ;  and  though 
rusty  and  sorely  battered,  and  its  sculptures  much  muti- 
lated, it  is  still  one  of  the  most  solid  and  perfect  relics  of 
imperial  times.  It  was  raised  to  commemorate  the  wars 
of  Septimius  Severus  in  Parthia  and  Arabia ;  and  repre- 
sents among  its  carvings  the  goddess  Rome  receiving 
the  homage  of  the  Eastern  nations.  It  exhibits  on  its 
panels  many  scenes  connected  with  his  campaigns,  the 
memory  of  which  no  humane  man  would  have  liked  to 
perpetuate.  On  the  upper  part  of  the  Arch  is  a  large 
inscription  in  honour  of  the  emperor  and  his  two  sons, 
Caracalla  and  Geta.  The  name  of  Geta,  however,  was 
afterwards  erased  by  his  brother  when  he  had  murdered 
him,  and  other  words  substituted.  Marks  of  the  erasure 
may  still  be  seen  perfectly  distinct  after  all  these  centuries, 
and  vividly  recall  the  terrible  associations  of  the  incident. 
The  dislike  which  Caracalla  and  Geta  had  for  each  other 
was  so  virulent  that  their  father  took  them  both  with  him 
to  Britain,  in  order  that  they  might  forget  their  mutual 
animosity  while  engaged  in  active  warfare.     Septimius 


'54 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 

Severus  died  during  this  campaign  at  York,  and  his  sons 
returned  to  Rome  to  work  out  soon  after  the  domestic 
tragedy  of  which  this  Arch  reminds  us.  On  the  top  of  the 
Arch  there  was  originally  a  bronze  group  of  a  chariot  and 
four  horses,  with  the  emperor  and  his  sons  driving  it.  But 
this  was  removed  at  an  early  date ;  and  in  the  middle 
ages  the  summit  of  the  Arch  supported  the  campanile  of 
the  church  of  St.  Sergius  and  Bacchus  that  was  built  up 
against  its  sides.  A  little  to  the  left,  the  road  passing 
under  the  Arch  joins  the  Clivus  Capitolinus  which 
wound  through  the  Forum,  and  led  up  to  the  great 
Temple  of  Jupiter  on  the  Capitol.  The  pavement  of 
this  ancient  road,  which  still  exists,  is  formed  of  broad 
hexagonal  slabs  of  lava,  and  is  as  smooth  and  as  finely 
jointed  at  this  day  as  when  the  triumphal  processions  of 
the  victorious  Roman  generals  used  to  pass  over  it. 

At  the  western  corner  of  the  Arch  of  Severus  are  the 
scanty  remains  of  a  tall  conical  pyramid,  about  fifteen 
feet  in  diameter,  which  is  identified  as  the  Umbilicus 
Romae,  placed  in  the  exact  centre  of  old  Rome.     Not 
far  from  it  stood  the  Milliarium  Aureum,  or  Golden  Mile- 
stone, on  which  were  inscribed  all  the  distances  of  roads 
without  the  walls.     The  Roman  roads  throughout  the 
empire  terminated  at  this  point.     With  this  central  mile- 
stone was   connected    that  admirable   system   of  roads 
which  the  Romans  constructed  in  our  distant   island; 
and  it  is  a  remarkable  circumstance  that  the  principal 
railway  lines  in  England  are  identical  with  the  general 
direction  of  the  old  Roman  roads.     The  Antonine  Way 
is   now  the   Great   Western   Railway,  and   the  Roman 
Watling  Street,  which  ran  diagonally  across  the  country 
from  Chester  in  the  north-west  to  Dover  in  the  south- 
east, is  now  replaced  by  the  Dover,  London,  Birmingham, 
Grand  Junction,  Chester,  and   Crewe  Railways.      The 
reason  of  this  union  of  ancient  and   modern  lines  of 
communication  is  obvious.     The  Romans  formed  their 
roads  for  the  purpose  of  transporting  their  armies  from 
place  to  place,  and  at  certain  distances  along  the  roads 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


^5S 


a  series  of  military  stations  were  established.  In  course 
of  time  these  stations  became  villages,  towns,  and  cities 
such  as  Chester,  Leicester,  Lancaster,  Manchester.  Thus, 
strange  as  it  may  appear,  the  Milliarium  Aureum  of  the 
Roman  Forum  has  had  much  to  do  with  the  origin  of 
our  most  ancient  and  important  towns,  and  with  the 
formation  of  the  great  lines  of  railway  that  now  carry  on 
the  enormous  traffic  between  them. 

The  exposed  vaults  immediately  behind  the  Arch  of 
Severus,  bounding  the  Forum  in  this  direction,  are  richly 
draped  with  the  long,  delicate  fronds  of  the  maidenhair 
fern.  Shaded  from  the  sun,  it  grows  here  in  the  crevices 
of  the  old  walls  in  greater  luxuriance  and  profusion  than 
elsewhere  in  the  city.  There  is  something  almost  pathetic 
in  this  association  of  the  frailest  of  Nature's  productions 
with  the  ruins  of  the  most  enduring  of  man's  works. 
Strength  that  is  crumbling  to  dust  and  ashes,  and  tender 
beauty  that  ever  clings  to  the  skirts  of  time,  as  she  steps 
over  the  sepulchres  of  power,  have  here  in  their  combina- 
tion a  deep  significance.  The  growth  of  the  soft  fern 
on  the  mouldering  old  stones  seems  like  the  sad,  sweet 
smile  of  Nature  over  a  decay  with  which  she  sympathises, 
but  which  she  cannot  share.  The  same  feeling  took 
possession  of  me  when,  wandering  over  the  ruins  of  the 
Palaces  of  the  Caesars  on  a  sunny  February  afternoon,  I 
saw  above  the  hoary  masses  of  stone  the  rose-tinted 
bloom  of  almond-trees.  Out  of  the  gray  relics  of  man's 
highest  hour  of  pride,  the  leafless  almond-rod  blossomed 
as  of  old  in  the  holy  place  of  the  Hebrew  Tabernacle ; 
and  its  miracle  of  colour  and  tenderness  was  like  the 
crimson  glow  that  lingers  at  sunset  upon  Alpine  heights, 
telling  of  a  glory  that  had  long  vanished  from  the  spot. 

Beneath  these  fern-draped  vaults  is  the  oldest  prison 
in  the  world.  The  celebrated  Mamertine  Prison  takes 
us  back  to  the  very  foundation  of  the  city.  It  was  re- 
garded in  the  time  of  the  Caesars  as  one  of  the  most 
ancient  relics  of  Rome,  and  was  invested  with  peculiar 
interest  because  of  its  venerable  associations.    It  consists 


156 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


of  a  series  of  vaults  excavated  out  of  the  solid  tufa  rock, 
where  it  slopes  down  from  the  Capitoline  Hill  into  the 
Forum,  each  lined  with  massive  blocks  of  red  volcanic 
stone.  For  a  long  time  these  vaults  have  been  used  as 
cellars  under  a  row  of  tall  squalid-looking  houses  built 
over  them  between  the  Via  di  Marforio  and  the  Vicolo 
del  Ghettarello  ;  and  the  sense  of  smell  gives  convincing 
proof  that  where  prisoners  of  state  used  to  be  confined, 
provisions  of  wine,  cheese,  and  oil  have  been  stored. 
The  prison  has  recently  passed  into  the  possession  of  the 
British  and  American  Archaeological  Society  of  Rome, 
which  pays  a  certain  rent  to  the  Italian  Government  for 
its  use.  By  this  society  it  is  illuminated  and  shown 
every  Monday  afternoon  during  the  season.  One  of  the 
members  conducts  the  party  through  the  upper  and 
lower  prisons,  and  explains  everything  of  interest  con- 
nected with  them.  Dr.  Parker,  whose  labours  have 
done  so  much  to  elucidate  this  part  of  ancient  Rome, 
was  the  guide  on  the  occasion  of  my  visit ;  and  as  the 
party  was  unusually  small,  we  had  a  better  opportunity 
of  seeing  what  was  to  be  seen,  and  hearing  the  guide's 
observations. 

The  uppermost  vault  is  still  below  the  level  of  the 
surrounding  soil,  and  the  entrance  to  it  is  by  the  church 
of  San  Giuseppe  di  Falegnami,  the  patron  of  the  Roman 
joiners,  built  over  it.  Beneath  is  a  subterranean  chapel, 
forming  a  sort  of  crypt  to  the  upper  church,  called  San 
Pietro  in  Carcere,  containing  a  curious  ancient  crucifix, 
an  object  of  great  veneration,  and  hung  round  with  blaz- 
ing lamps  and  rusty  daggers,  pistols,  and  other  deadly 
instruments,  the  votive  offerings  of  bandits  and  assassins 
who  sought  at  this  shrine  of  the  chief  of  the  apostles  to 
make  their  peace  with  heaven.  Descending  from  the 
chapel  by  a  flight  of  steps  we  come  through  a  modern 
door,  opened  through  the  wall  for  the  convenience  of 
the  pilgrims  who  annually  visit  the  sacred  spot  in  crowds, 
to  the  ancient  vestibule,  or  grand  chamber  of  the  prison, 
commonly  called  the  Prison  of  St  Peter  from  the  church 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


157 


tradition  which  asserts  that  the  great  apostle  was  con- 
fined here  by  order  of  Nero  before  his  martyrdom.  The 
pillar  to  which  he  was  bound  is  still  pointed  out  in  the 
cell ;  and  Dr.  Parker,  lifting  up  its  cover,  showed  us  a 
well  in  the  pavement  of  the  floor,  which  is  said  to  have 
sprung  up  miraculously  to  furnish  water  for  the  baptism 
of  the  jailors  Processus  and  Martinianus  whom  he  had 
converted,  though,  unfortunately  for  this  tradition,  the 
fountain  is  described  by  Plutarch  as  existing  in  the  time 
of  Jugurtha's  imprisonment.  Indeed  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe  that  this  chamber  was  originally  a  well- 
house  or  a  subterranean  cistern  for  collecting  water  at 
the  foot  of  the  Capitol,  from  which  circumstance  it  de- 
rived its  name  of  Tullianum,  from  tullius^  the  old 
Etruscan  word  for  sprhig^  and  not  from  Servius  Tullius, 
who  was  erroneously  supposed  to  have  built  it.  The 
whole  chamber  in  primitive  times  was  filled  with  water, 
and  the  hole  in  the  roof  was  used  for  drawing  it  out. 
Dr.  Parker  gave  us  a  little  of  the  water  in  a  goblet,  but, 
notwithstanding  its  sacred  reputation,  it  tasted  very  much 
like  ordinary  water,  being  very  cool  and  fresh,  with  a 
slight  medicinal  taste.  He  also  pointed  our  attention 
to  a  rugged  hollow  in  the  wall  of  the  staircase,  and  told 
us  that  this  was  the  print  of  St.  Peter's  head  in  the  hard 
stone,  said  to  have  been  produced  as  he  stumbled  and 
fell  against  it,  coming  down  the  stair  a  chained  prisoner. 
It  requires  no  small  amount  of  devotional  credulity  to 
recognise  the  likeness  or  to  believe  the  story. 

But  there  is  no  need  for  having  recourse  to  such 
ecclesiastical  legends  in  order  to  produce  a  solemn  im- 
pression in  this  chamber.  Its  classical  associations  are 
sufficient  of  themselves  to  powerfully  affect  the  imagina- 
tion. There  is  no  reason  to  doftbt  the  common  belief 
that  this  is  the  identical  cell  in  which  the  famous 
Jugurtha  was  starved  to  death.  The  romantic  history 
of  this  African  king  is  familiar  to  all  readers  of  Sallust, 
who  gives  a  masterly  account  of  the  Jugurthine  war. 
When    finally  defeated,   after   having   long   defied    the 


158 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Roman   army,  his   person  was   taken  possession  of  by 
treachery   and    carried   in   chains   to   Rome,  where    he 
adorned    the    triumphal    procession    of    his    conqueror 
Marius,   and   was   finally  cast    into    this   cell,  perishing 
there  of  cold  and  hunger.     What  a  terrible  ending  to 
the  career  of  a  fierce,  free  soldier,  who  had  spent  his  life 
on  horseback  in  the  boundless  sultry  deserts  of  Western 
Africa!     The  temperature  of  the  place  is  exceedingly 
damp  and  chill.     Jugurtha  himself,  when  stripped  of  his 
clothes  by  the  executioners,  and  let  down  into  it  from 
the  hole  in  the  roof,  exclaimed  with  grim  humour,  "  By 
Hercules,  how  cold   your  bath  is  ! "     A  more  hideous 
and  heart-breaking  dungeon  it  is  impossible  to  imagine. 
Not  a  ray  of  light  can  penetrate  the  profound  darkness 
of  this  living  tomb.     Sallust  spoke  of  the  appearance  of 
it  in  his  day,  from  the  filth,  the  gloom,  and  the  smell, 
as   simply  terrific.     The   height   of  the   vault   is   about 
sixteen  feet,  its  length  thirty  feet,  and  its  breadth  twenty- 
two  feet.     It  is  cased  with  huge  masses  of  volcanic  stone, 
arranged  in  courses,  converging  towards  the  roof,  not  on 
the  principle  of  the  arch,  but  extending  horizontally  to 
a  centre,  as  we  see  in  some  of  the   Etruscan   tombs. 
This  peculiar  style  of  construction  proves  the  very  high 
antiquity  of  the  chamber. 

This  cell  played  the  same  part  in  Roman  history 
which  the  Tower  of  London  has  done  in  our  own. 
Here,  by  the  orders  of  Cicero,  were  strangled  Lentulus, 
Cethegus,  and  one  or  two  more  of  the  accomplices  of 
Catiline,  in  his  famous  conspiracy.  Here  was  murdered, 
under  circumstances  of  great  baseness,  Vercingetorix, 
the  young  and  gallant  chief  of  the  Gauls,  whose  bravery 
called  forth  the  highest  qualities  of  Julius  Caesar's 
military  genius,  and  who,  when  success  abandoned  his 
arms,  boldly  gave  himself  up  as  an  offering  to  appease 
the  anger  of  the  Romans.  Here  perished  Sejanus,  the 
minister  and  son-in-law  of  Tiberius,  who  was  detected  in 
a  conspiracy  against  the  emperor,  and  richly  deserved 
his  fate  on  account  of  his  cruelty  and  treachery.     Here 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


>59 


also  was  put  to  death  Simon  Bar-Gioras,  the  governor  of 
the  revolted  Jews  during  the  last  dreadful  siege  of 
Jerusalem,  who  was  taken  prisoner,  and  after  gracing  the 
triumph  of  the  emperor  Titus  at  Rome,  shared  the  fate 
which  usually  happened  to  captives  after  such  an 
exhibition. 

From  the  Tullianum  or  Prison  of  St.  Peter,  we  were 
led  through  a  tortuous  subterranean  passage  of  Etruscan 
character,  a  hundred  yards  long,  cut  out  of  the  rock.     It 
was  so  low  that  we  had  to  stoop  all  the  way,  and  in  some 
places  almost  to  creep,  and  so  narrow  that  a  very  stout 
person   would  have  some  difficulty  in  forcing  himself 
through.     The  floor  was  here  and  there  wet  with  the 
overflowing  of   neighbouring  drains,    which    exhaled    a 
noisome  smell ;  and  we  had  to  pick  our  steps  carefully 
through  thick  greasy  mud,  which  on  the  slopes  was  very 
slippery  and  disagreeable.     We  followed  each  other  in 
Indian  file,  stooping  low,  each  with  a  wax  taper  burning 
dimly  in  the  damp  atmosphere,  and  presenting  a  most 
picturesque  appearance.     This  passage  was  discovered 
only  a  few  years  ago.     Numerous  passages  of  a  similar 
nature  are  said  to  penetrate  the  volcanic  rock  on  which 
the  Capitol  stands,  in  every  direction,  like  the  galleries 
of  an  ant's  nest.     Some  of  these  have  been  exposed,  and 
others  walled  up.     They  connect   the  Prison  with  the 
Cloaca^  and   doubtless  furnished  means   by  which    the 
bodies  of  criminals  who  had  been   executed  might  be 
secretly  disposed  of.     The  passage  in  question  brought 
us  to  four  other  chambers,  each  darker  and  more  dismal 
than  the  other,  and  partially  filled  with  heaps  of  rubbish 
and  masses  of  stone  that  had  fallen  from  their  roofs  and 
sides.     At  the  top  of  each  vault  there  was  a  man-hole 
for  letting  a  prisoner  down  with  cords  into  it.     A  visit  to 
these  six  vaults  of  the  Mamertine  Prison  gives  one  an 
idea  that  can  never  be  forgotten  of  the  cruelty  and  tyranny 
which  underlay  all  the  gorgeous  despotism  of  Rome,  alike 
in  the  kingly,  republican,  and  imperial  periods.     Some  of 
the  remains  may  still  be  seen  of  the  ScalcB  Gemonice^  the 


i6o 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


'*  Steps  of  sighs,"  down  which  the  bodies  of  those  who 
were  executed  were  thrown,  to  be  exposed  to  the  insults 
of  the  populace.  The  only  circumstance  that  relieves 
the  intolerable  gloom  of  the  associations  of  the  Prison  is, 
that  Nc-evius  is  said  to  have  written  two  of  his  plays 
while  he  was  confined  in  it  for  his  attacks  on  the 
aristocracy ;  a  circumstance  which  links  it  to  the  Tower 
of  London,  which  has  also  its  literary  reminiscences. 
After  having  been  immured  so  long  in  such  disagreeable 
physical  darkness— appropriate  emblem  of  the  deeds  of 
horror  committed  in  it — we  were  truly  glad  to  catch  at 
last  a  faint  glimmer  of  daylight  shimmering  into  the 
uppermost  passage,  and  to  emerge  into  the  open  sun- 
shine, from  beneath  a  house  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
Vicolo  del  Ghettarello. 

A  modern  carriage-road  used  to  pass  along  this  way, 
leading  up  to  the  Piazza  del  Campidoglio  in  front  of  the 
Capitol,  and  cutting  the  Forum  into  two  parts,  concealing 
a  considerable  portion  of  it.     This  obstruction  has  now 
been  swept  away,  and  the  Forum  is  fully  exposed  from 
end   to    end.      Below  this    old   road   we   observe   the 
"  nameless  column  "  of  Childe  Harold,  which  long  stood 
with   its   base  buried,  and  was  taken  for  the  ruins  of 
a  temple.     When  excavated  in   1813  it   was  found  to 
stand  on  an  isolated  pedestal,  with  an  inscription  record- 
ing that  it  was  erected  by  the  exarch  Smaragdus  to  the 
emperor  Phocas;  and  the  mode  in  which  the  offering 
was  made  was  worthy  of  the  infamous  subject  and  the 
venal  dedicator.     Nothing  can  be  clearer  from  the  style 
of  the   monument    than   that    it    was   stolen    from    the 
Temple  of  Vespasian  adjoining ;  for  it  is  an  exact  fellow 
of  the  three  graceful  Corinthian  pillars  still  standing  in 
front  of  the  ^rarium.     It  was  near  this  pillar,  a  few  years 
after  it  was  raised,  that  Gregory  the  Great,  before  he 
became  Pope,  saw  the  young  Saxon  captives  exposed  to 
be  sold  as  slaves,  and  was  so  struck  with  their  innocent 
looks  and  hopeless  fate  that  he  asked  about  their  nation- 
ality and  religion.     Being  told  that  they  were  Angli,  he 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


161 


said, '  *  Non  AiigU,  sed  Angeli. "  The  impression  made  upon 
him  led  to  a  mission  for  converting  the  natives  of  Britain, 
which  set  out  from  Rome  under  St.  Augustine  in  596. 
Thus  does  the  column  of  the  infamous  usurper  Phocas 
link  itself  on  the  historic  page  with  the  conversion  of 
Britain  to  Christianity. 

Beside  the  Pillar  of  Phocas  are  two  large  marble 
screens  or  parapets,  with  magnificent  bas-reliefs  sculptured 
on  both  sides.  They  were  discovered  about  sixteen  years 
ago  in  situ,  and  are  among  the  most  interesting  and  im- 
portant objects  that  have  been  brought  to  light  by  the 
recent  excavations  in  the  Forum.  Their  peculiar  form 
has  given  rise  to  much  controversy ;  some  antiquarians 
regarding  them  as  an  avenue  along  which  voters  went  up  to 
the  poll  at  the  popular  elections  of  consuls,  designed  either 
to  preserve  the  voters  from  the  pressure  of  the  mob,  or  to 
prevent  any  but  properly  qualified  persons  from  getting 
admission  ;  while  others  believe  that  the  passage  between 
the  double  screen  led  to  an  altar.  This  latter  opinion 
seems  the  more  plausible  one,  for  the  sculptures  on  one 
side  represent  the  suovetawilia — a  bull,  a  ram,  and  a 
boar,  adorned  with  ribbons  and  vittae,  walking  in  file, 
which  were  usually  sacrificed  for  the  purification  of  Rome 
at  the  Lustrum,  as  the  census  taken  every  five  years  was 
called.  The  other  sculptures  on  the  marble  screens 
consist  of  a  number  of  human  figures  in  greater  or  less 
relief;  one  of  them  being  supposed  to  commemorate  the 
provision  made  by  Trajan  for  the  children  of  poor  or 
deceased  citizens  in  the  orphanage  which  he  was  the  first  to 
found  in  Rome ;  and  the  other,  the  burning  of  the  deeds 
which  contained  the  evidence  of  the  public  debt  of  the 
Roman  citizens,  which  the  emperor  generously  cancelled. 
But  the  chief  significance  of  the  sculptures  lies  in  their 
background  of  architectural  and  other  objects  indicating 
the  locality  of  the  scenes  represented.  They  place 
before  us  a  view  of  the  Forum  as  it  appeared  in  the 
time  of  Trajan,  and  enable  us  to  identify  the  various 
objects  which  then  crowded  it,  and  to  fix  their  relative 


l62 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


position.     The  topographical  importance  of  these  rehefs 
has  been  well  discussed  by  Signor  Brizio  and  Professor 
Henzen  in  the  Proceedings  of  the  Rofuan  Archceological 
I?istitute ;  and  also  in  a  paper  read  by  Mr.  Nichols  before 
the   Society   of  Antiquaries   in   London   in    1875.     By 
translating  into  perspective  their  somewhat  conventional 
representations  of  temples,  basilicas,   and   arches,   Mr. 
Nichols  has  given  us  in  his  monograph  on  the  subject 
two  very  effective  pictorial  restorations  of  the  Forum  as 
it  was  in  the  days  of  Trajan.     Both  the  screens  exhibit, 
very  distinctly  sculptured,  a  fig-tree  and  a  statue  on  a 
pedestal,  which  are  interesting  from  their  classical  associa- 
tions.     The  tree   is   not   the   famous  Ruminal  fig-tree 
originally  of  the  Palatine  and  then  of  the  Comitium,  but, 
as  Pliny  tells  us,  a  self-sown  tree  which  grew  in  the  mid 
Forum  on  the  site  of  the  Lake  of  Curtius,  which  in 
Ovid's  time,  as  we  learn  from  himself,  was  a  dry  space 
of  natural  ground  marked  off  by  a  low  fence,  and  includ- 
ing an  altar.     This  fig-tree,  along  with  a  vine  and  an 
olive,  which  grew  associated  with  it,  was  much  prized  on 
account  of  the   shade   which   it   afforded.     The  figure 
under  the  fig-tree,  carrying  a  vine  stem  on  its  left  shoulder, 
and  uplifting  its  right  arm,  has  been  recognised  as  that 
of  Marsyas,  whose  statue  was  often  put  in  market-places 
as  an  emblem  of  plenty  and  indulgence.    Martial,  Horace, 
Seneca,  and  Pliny  all  alluded  to  this  statue  in  the  Forum, 
which  stood  near  the  edge  of  the  Lake  of  Curtius,  and 
was    crowned    with    garlands    by   Julia,    the    daughter 
of  Augustus,  during  her  disgraceful  assignations  beside 
it  with  her  lovers  at  night. 

On  the  east  side  of  the  Forum  the  excavations  have 
been  stopped  in  the  meantime,  as  the  modern  level  of 
the  ground  is  occupied  by  valuable  houses,  and  two 
very  interesting  old  churches,  Santa  Martina  and  Sta. 
Adriano.  Under  the  part  not  yet  exhumed  lie  the 
remains  of  the  earliest  of  all  the  Basilicas,  the  Basilica 
of  Porcia,  built  by  the  elder  Cato  in  the  immediate 
vicinity   of  the  Curia,   and   also   those   of   the   famous 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


163 


Basilica  Emilia,   which  probably   extended    along    the 
greater  part  of  the  east  side  of  the  Forum.      Some  of 
the  most  important  monuments  of  ancient  Rome,  known 
to  us  only  by  the  writings  of  classic  authors,  doubtless 
lie  buried  in  this  locality.     Under  the  church  ot  Sta. 
Adriano,  the  famous  Curia  Hostilia  or  Senate  House, 
attributed    to    Tullus    Hostilius,    stood.      The    original 
building  was  destroyed  by  fire  at  the  funeral  of  Clodius, 
through  the  carelessness  of  the  populace,  who  insisted 
upon  burning  his  body  within  it ;  but  it  was  replaced  by 
the  Curia  Julia,  which  was  rebuilt   by   Augustus,  who 
added  to  it  an  important  structure,  called  in  the  Ancyran 
inscription    Chalcidicum,    for   the   convenience    of  the 
senators.     Around  it  stood  the  statues  of  men  who  had 
rendered  important  services  to  the  state ;  and  not  far  off 
was  an  altar  and  statue  of  Victory,  which  formed  the 
last   rallying-ground   of   expiring    paganism   against  the 
dominating  Christianity  of  the  empire.     In  the  year  382 
the  Christian  party  had  removed  this  altar  and  statue ; 
and  when  their  restoration  was  demanded  by  Symmachus, 
the  request  was  refused  by  Ambrose,  as  opposed  to  the 
conscience  of  the  Christian  senators ;  and  this  decision 
being  ratified  by  the  votes  of  the  assembly,  the  doom  of 
paganism,  as  the  national  religion,  was  in  consequence 
sealed.     The   Curia  Julia  ceased   to  serve   its  original 
purpose  at  the  death  of  Caligula,  when  the  consuls  con- 
voked the  senate  in  the  Capitol  instead,  to  mark  their 
aversion  to  the  rule  of  the  Caesars;  and  the  building 
was  probably  burnt  down  and  finally  rebuilt  in  the  time 
of  Diocletian.     One  of  the  most  curious  uses  to  which  it 
was  put,  was  to  mark  the  Suprema  teinpestas^  which  closed 
the  hours  of  legal  business,  by  means  of  its  shadow  pro- 
jected on  the  pavement ;  a  primitive  mode  of  reckoning 
time  which  existed  before  the  first  Punic  war,  and  was 
afterwards  superseded  by  a  sun-dial  and  a  clepsydra  or 
water-clock  erected  in  the  Forum. 

Near  the  Curia  under  the  present  roadway  must  lie 
the  site  of  the  Comitium,  or  meeting-place  of  the  Roman 


164 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAr. 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


165 


burgesses.     This  was  far  the  most  important  spot  in  the 
Forum  in   the   days   of  the   Republic.      It  was   not  a 
covered  building,  but  a  templum  or  a  consecrated  space 
open  to  the  air.     In  its  area  grew  a  fig-tree,  in  com- 
memoration of  the  sacred  tree  which  sheltered  Romulus 
and  Remus  in  their  infancy ;  and  we  read  of  drops  of 
blood  and  milk  falling  upon  it  as  omens  from  the  sky. 
One    of   the   stones   on  its   pavement,   from    its    extra- 
ordinary blackness,  was  called  the  tombstone  of  Romulus, 
and  a   number  of  statues  adorned  its  sides,  including 
the   three   Sibyls,   which   gave   the   name   of  "In   Tria 
Fata"  down    to    medieval   times   to   this   part  of  the 
Forum.     From  its  rostra,  or  stone  platform,  addresses 
were  delivered  by  political  agitators  to  open-air  assem- 
blies  of  the   people.     The  Comitium  reminds  us  very 
strikingly  of  the  municipal  origin  of  the  Roman  empire. 
In    primitive    times    that    mode    of    government   was 
admirably  adapted  to  the  necessities  of  the  city ;    but 
when  Rome  became  mistress  of  the  world  it  was  found 
unfitted  to  discharge  imperial  functions.     The  establish- 
ment of  the  monarchical  form  of  Government  overthrew 
the  Comitium,  and  with  it  the  very  life  of  the  Roman  city. 
In  front  of  the  church  of  S.  Adriano — said  to  be  no 
other  than  the  actual  Curia  of  Diocletian,  though  greatly 
altered  and  partly  rebuilt  by  Pope   Honorius  I.   in  the 
year  630 — are  some  fragments  of  the  Basilica  Emilia. 
This   court   was    erected    on   the    site  of  the   Basilica 
Fulvia,  and  superseded  by  a  more  splendid  building 
called   the    Basilica    Pauli,    which   was    the  Bourse   or 
Exchange  of  ancient   Rome.     The  building  of  this  last 
Basilica  was  interrupted   for  a  long  time  by  the  dis- 
orders consequent  on  the  assassination  of  Caesar.     When 
finished,  it  was  considered  to  be  one  of  the  most  magni- 
ficent buildings  in  the  world ;  and  was  especially  admired 
on  account  of  its  beautiful  columns  of  Phrygian  marble. 
These  were  afterwards  removed  to  decorate  the  church  of 
St.  Paul  outside  the  gate,  where  some  of  them  that  survived 
the  burning  of  the  old  edifice  may  be  seen  behind  the 


high  altar  of  the  new.  Between  the  Curia  and  the  Basilica 
Emilia  is  supposed  to  have  stood  the  celebrated  Temple 
of  Janus,  built  according  to  Livy  by  Numa  Pompilius, 
the  closing  or  opening  of  which  was  the  signal  of  peace 
or  war.  It  was  probably  at  first  one  of  the  ancient 
gates  in  a  line  of  fortifications  uniting  the  Capitol  with 
the  Palatine ;  and  afterwards  comprised,  besides  a 
passage-way  through  which  a  great  part  of  the  traffic  of 
Rome  passed,  a  diminutive  bronze  temple  containing  a 
bronze  statue  of  the  venerable  deity  of  the  Sabines, 
whose  one  face  looked  to  the  east,  and  the  other  to  the 
west.  The  bronze  gates  of  the  temple  were  closed  by 
Augustus  for  the  third  time  after  the  battle  of  Actium, 
and  finally  shut  when  Christianity  became  the  religion 
of  the  empire.  Procopius  saw  the  temple  still  standing 
in  the  sixth  century ;  and  he  tells  us  that,  during  the 
siege  of  the  city  by  the  Goths,  when  it  was  defended  by 
Belisarius,  some  of  the  adherents  of  the  old  pagan 
superstition  made  a  secret  attempt  to  open  the  shrine 
and  set  the  god  at  liberty. 

One  gazes  at  the  wall  of  earth  and  rubbish,  fifteen 
feet  deep,  marking  the  present  limit  of  the  excavations 
in  this  direction,  with  a  profound  longing  that  the 
obstruction  could  be  removed  at  once,  and  the  rich 
antiquarian  treasures  lying  hid  underneath  brought  to 
light.  Few  things  in  Rome  appealed  more  powerfully 
to  my  curiosity  than  this  huge  bank  of  debris^  behind 
and  beneath  which  imagination  was  free  to  picture  all 
kinds  of  possibilities.  On  the  part  that  has  been  un- 
covered, we  see  a  row  of  brick  bases  on  which  had 
stood  monuments  of  gilt  bronze  to  some  of  the  distin- 
guished men  of  Rome ;  the  remains  of  a  line  of  shops 
of  the  third  century  demolished  during  the  excavations  ; 
the  pedestal  of  what  is  said  by  some  to  have  been 
Domitian's  and  by  others  Constantine's  gigantic  equestrian 
statue ;  and  farther  down,  rude  heaps  of  masonry, 
belonging  to  the  substructures  of  the  Rostra  and  Temple 
of  Julius  Caesar.     Part  of  the  curved  wall  of  the  Rostra 


' 


i66 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


may  still  be  seen  built  of  large  blocks  of  travertine ;  and 
in  front  is  a  fixed  platform,  where  a  large  number  of 
people  could  stand  and  listen  to  the  speaker.  This 
Rostra  is  specially  interesting  because  it  was  constructed 
in  the  year  of  Caesar's  death,  and  was  intended  to  mark 
the  design  of  the  great  triumvir  to  destroy  the  memory 
of  the  old  oligarchy  by  separating  the  rostra  or  *'  hust- 
ings "  from  their  former  connection  with  the  senate  and 
comitia,  and  make  them  entirely  popular  institutions. 
The  front  of  it  was  afterwards  adorned  by  Augustus  with 
the  beaks  of  ships  taken  at  Actium.  The  small  Heroon 
or  Temple  of  Caesar  behind  the  Rostra  was  erected  on 
the  spot  where  the  body  of  Caesar  was  burned  before 
the  house  which  he  had  so  long  inhabited,  and  in  a 
part  of  the  Forum  especially  associated  with  his  greatest 
political  triumphs.  It  superseded  an  altar  and  lofty 
column  of  Numidian  marble,  at  which  the  people  had 
previously  offered  sacrifices  to  the  memory  of  their 
idol,  the  first  mortal  in  Rome  raised  to  the  rank  of  the 
gods ;  an  honour  justified,  they  imagined,  not  only  by 
his  great  deeds,  but  also  by  his  alleged  descent  from 
Venus  Anadyomene. 

Running  down  the  middle  of  the  Forum  is  a  rough, 
ancient  causeway,  with  its  blocks  of  lava  still  in  their 
original  position,  but  so  disjointed  that  it  is  no  easy 
task  walking  over  them.  On  the  other  side  is  the 
raised  platform  of  the  Basilica  Julia  of  Augustus,  extend- 
ing from  north  to  south,  the  whole  length  of  the  Forum, 
with  steps  leading  up  to  it  from  the  paved  street.  This 
stupendous  law  court,  the  grandest  in  Rome  where 
Trajan  sat  to  administer  justice,  and  from  whose  root 
Caligula  day  after  day  lavishly  threw  down  money  to  the 
people,  has,  by  its  own  identity  being  established  beyond 
dispute,  more  than  any  other  discovery  helped  to  deter- 
mine the  topography  of  the  Roman  Forum.  It  was 
begun  by  Julius  Caesar  on  the  site  of  the  older  Basilica 
Sempronia,  which  had  previously  partially  replaced  the 
Veteres  Tabernce  or  shops  of  early  times  required  for  the 


^t^-O*  .J I] J     -JU 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


167 


trades  carried  on  in  a  market-place,  and  also  the  schools 
for  children  where  Appius  Claudius  had  first  seen 
Virginia  reading.  Having  been  partially  destroyed  by 
fire,  Augustus  afterwards  completed  and  greatly  enlarged 
the  building.  It  was  used  as  the  place  of  meeting  of 
the  Cefitiwivin\  a  court  which  we  learn  from  the  younger 
Pliny,  who  himself  practised  before  it,  had  a  hundred 
and  eight  judges  sitting  in  four  separate  tribunals,  within 
sight  and  hearing  of  one  another,  like  the  old  courts  in 
Westminster  Hall.  The  Basilica  is  not  yet  entirely 
excavated,  a  large  part  of  its  breadth  being  still  under 
modern  buildings.  It  consisted  of  a  series  of  plain, 
massive  arches  built  of  travertine.  The  pavement  is 
wonderfully  perfect,  being  composed  of  a  mosaic  pattern 
of  valuable  marbles,  doubtless  saved  from  destruction  or 
removal  to  build  some  church  or  palace  by  the  fortunate 
circumstance  that  the  ruins  of  the  Basilica  covered  and 
concealed  them  at  an  early  period.  On  this  pavement 
and  on  the  steps  leading  up  to  it  are  incised  numerous 
squares  and  circles  which  are  supposed  to  have  been 
tabulae  lusoriae,  or  gaming-tables.  A  few  have  inscrip- 
tions near  them  alluding  to  their  use.  Cicero  mentions 
the  dice-players  of  the  Forum  with  reprobation;  and 
the  fact  that  such  sports  should  have  intruded  into  the 
courts  of  justice  shows  that  the  Romans  had  lost  at 
this  time  their  early  veneration  for  the  law.  The  rows 
of  brick  arches  seen  on  the  platform  are  mere  modern 
restorations,  placed  there  by  Cavaliere  Rosa  to  indicate 
the  supposed  original  plan  of  the  building.  At  the 
south  end  of  it  an  opening  in  the  pavement  shows  a 
part  of  the  Cloaca  Maxima,  with  the  sewerage  passing 
through  it  underneath. 

The  ancient  street  between  the  Basilica  Julia  and  the 
Temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  is  undoubtedly  the  famous 
Vicus  Tuscus^  so  called  after  the  Etruscan  soldiers  who 
belonged  to  the  army  of  Porsenna,  and,  being  defeated 
at  Ariccia,  took  refuge  in  this  part  of  Rome.  This 
street,  so  often  mentioned  by  classic  writers,  led  to  the 


1 68 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


169 


Circus  Maximus,  and  is  now  identified  with  the  Via  dei 
Fienili ;  the  point  of  departure  from  the  Forum  being 
marked  by  a  statue  of  Vertumnus,  the  Etruscan  god,  the 
ruined  pedestal  of  which,  in  all  likelihood,  is  that  which 
has  lately  been  unveiled  on  the  steps  at  the  north-east 
corner  of  the  Basilica  Julia.     It  was  considered  almost 
as  sacred  as  the  Via  Sacra  itself,  being  the  route  taken 
by  the   great   procession   of  the    Circensian   games,   in 
which  the  statues  of  the  gods  were  carried  in  cars  from 
the  Capitol  through  the  Forum  to  the  circus.     In  front 
of  the   Basilica  Julia,  and  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
way,  so  numerous  were  the  statues  which  Julius  Caesar 
contrived  to  crowd  together,  that  the  Emperor  Constant- 
ine,  during  his  famous  visit  to  Rome,  is  said  to  have  been 
almost  stupefied  with  amazement.      Some  such  feeling  is 
produced  in  our  own  minds  when  we   reflect  that  the 
bewildering  array  of  sculptures  in  the  Roman  galleries, 
admired  by  a  concourse  of  pilgrims  from  every  country, 
are  but  chance  discoveries,  unnoticed  by  history,  and  of 
no  account  in  their  own  time.     What    must  have  been 
the    feast    of   splendour   of  which    these   are    but   the 
crumbs ! 

Perhaps  the  most  beautiful  of  the  ruins  of  the  Forum 
are  the  three  marble  columns  of  the  Temple  of  Castor 
and  Pollux  near  the  Basilica  Julia.  They  are  the  only 
prominent  objects  on  the  south-west  side  of  the  Forum, 
and  at  once  arrest  the  eye  by  their  matchless  symmetry 
and  grace.  Time  has  dealt  very  hardly  with  them, 
battering  their  shapely  columns  and  rich  Corinthian 
capitals,  and  discolouring  their  pure  white  Pentelic 
marble.  But  it  has  not  succeeded  in  destroying  their 
wonderful  beauty ;  and  the  russet  hues  with  which  they 
have  been  stained  by  the  long  lapse  of  the  ages  have 
rather  added  to  them  the  charm  of  antique  picturesque- 
ness.  They  rest  upon  a  huge  mound  of  broken  masonry, 
in  the  interstices  of  which  Nature  has  sown  her  seeds  of 
minute^  life,  which  spread  over  it  a  tender  pall  of  bright 
vegetation,     l^he  three  columns  are  bound  together  by 


iron  rods,  and  still  further  kept  in  position  by  the 
fragments  of  architrave  and  cornice  supported  by  them. 
They  are  forty-eight  feet  in  height  and  nearly  five  feet 
in  diameter,  while  their  flutings  are  nine  inches  across. 
Around  the  basement  a  large  quantity  of  broken  columns, 
capitals,  and  pedestals  has  been  disinterred,  some  of 
which  have  acquired  an  historic  renown  on  account  of 
the  purposes  which  they  have  served  in  the  fine  arts. 
Michael  Angelo  converted  one  huge  fragment  into  the 
pedestal  of  the  celebrated  bronze  equestrian  statue  of 
Marcus  Aurelius,  which  he  transferred  from  its  original 
site  in  front  of  the  Arch  of  Septimius  Severus,  where  it 
had  stood  for  thirteen  or  fourteen  centuries,  to  the  front 
of  the  Capitol ;  while  out  of  another  fragment  Raphael 
carved  the  well-known  statue  of  Jonah  sitting  on  a  whale, 
to  be  seen  in  the  Chigi  Chapel  of  Sta,  Maria  del  Popolo, 
the  only  piece  of  sculpture  executed  by  the  immortal 
painter.  The  Italian  Government  has  entirely  excavated 
the  ruins,  and  thus  set  at  rest  the  numerous  controversies 
among  antiquaries  regarding  its  true  name. 

The  temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux  probably  dates  as 
far  back  as  the  year  487  before  Christ,  when  the  dictator 
Postumius  vowed  to  build  a  monument  in  commemora- 
tion of  his  victory  at  the  great  battle  of  Lake  Regillus, 
with  which  the  mythical  history  of  Rome  closes.  It 
recalls  the  well-known  romantic  legend  of  the  mysterious 
interference  of  the  Dioscuri  in  that  memorable  struggle 
which  Macaulay  has  woven  into  one  of  the  most  spirited 
of  his  Lays.  The  temple  is  supposed  to  have  been 
erected  on  the  spot  where  the  divine  Twins  announced 
the  victory  to  the  people  in  the  Forum  at  the  close  of 
the  day.  About  twenty  feet  from  the  eastern  corner  of 
the  temple  are  slight  remains  of  a  shallow  oval  basin, 
which  has  been  identified  as  the  lake  or  fountain  of 
Juturna,  the  wife  of  Janus,  the  Sabine  war-god,  where 
the  Dioscuri  washed  their  armour  and  horses  from  the 
blood  and  dust  of  the  fray.  It  was  probably  at  first  a 
natural  spring  gushing  out  of  the  tufa  rock  of  the  Palatine 


170 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Hill,  but  being  dried  up,  it  became  in  later  times  a  lacus 
or  basin  artificially  supplied  with  water.  For  long  ages 
afterwards  the  anniversary  of  the  great  battle  was  cele- 
brated every  year  on  the  fifteenth  of  July  by  a  splendid 
pageant  worthy  of  the  greatness  of  the  empire.  The 
Roman  knights,  clothed  in  purple  robes,  and  crowned 
with  olive  wreaths,  and  bearing  their  trophies,  first  offered 
sacrifice  in  the  shrine  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  and  then 
formed  a  procession,  in  which  five  thousand  persons 
sometimes  took  part,  which  filed  in  front  of  the  temple 
and  marched  through  the  city. 

The  original   building   having   stood  for  nearly  five 
hundred  years,  it  began  to  exhibit  signs  of  decay,  and 
accordingly  it  was  rebuilt  upon  the  old  foundations  by 
Augustus,  and  dedicated  by  Tiberius.     The  podium  or 
mass  of  rubble  masonry  therefore  which  we  see  beneath 
the  three  columns  at  the  present  day  belongs  to  the  time 
of  the  kings,  while  the  columns  themselves  belong  to  the 
imperial  period.     Caligula  used  the  temple  as  a  vestibule 
to  his  palace  on  the  Palatine  Hill  immediately  behind. 
On  the  brow  of  that  hill,  separated  only  by  the  pave- 
ment of  the  modern  street,  projects  a  labyrinth  of  vaults, 
arches,  and  broken  walls,  a  mighty  maze  of  desolation 
without  a  plan,  so  interspersed  with  verdure  and  foliage 
that  "it  looks  as  much  a  landscape  as  a  ruin."     This  is 
supposed  to  be  the  palace  of  Caligula ;  and  its  remains 
abundantly  attest  the  extraordinary  magnificence  of  this 
imperial  domain,  which  contained  all  that  was  rich  and 
rare  from  the  golden  East,  from  beyond  the  snowy  Alps, 
and  from  Greece,  the  home  of  art.     The  substructions 
of  this  mighty  ruin  are  truly  astonishing;   they  are  so 
vast,^  so  massive,  so  enduring,  that  they  seem  as  if  built 
by  giants.     Concealed  by  modern  houses  built  up  against 
the  foot  of  the  palace,  some  of  the  remains  of  the  famous 
bridge  which  Caligula  threw  obliquely  over  the  Forum 
can  be  made  out ;  two  of  the  tall  brick  piers  are  visible 
above  the  houses,  and  in  the  gable  of  the  outer  house 
the  spring  of  one  of  the  arches  can  be  distinctly  seen. 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


171 


The  bridge  was  constructed  by  Caligula  for  the  purpose 
of  connecting  his  palace  with  the  Capitol,  on  the  sum- 
mit of  which  stood  the  magnificent  Temple  of  Jupiter, 
so  that,  as  he  said  himself,  he  might  be  able  to  converse 
conveniently  with  his  colleague,  the  greatest  of  the  gods ! 
It  is  probable  that  it  served  more  than  one  purpose; 
that  it  was  used  both  as  an  aqueduct  and  a  road  for 
horses  and  chariots  from  the  Palatine  to  the  Capitol. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  it  must  have  been  a  stupendous 
structure,  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long,  and  about 
a  hundred  feet  high,  striding  over  the  whole  diagonal 
of  the  Forum,  wuth  a  double  or  triple  tier  of  arches,  like 
the  remains  of  the  Claudian  aqueduct  that  spans  the 
Campagna. 

The  immediate  vicinity  of  the  Temple  of  Castor  and 
Pollux  is  full  of  interest  to  the  classical  student.  To 
the  right  of  it  are  the  remains  of  the  Regia  or  Royal 
Palace,  the  official  residence  of  the  early  kings  of  Rome, 
and  afterwards,  during  the  whole  period  of  the  Republic, 
of  the  Pontifex  Maximus,  as  the  real  head  of  the  State 
as  well  as  the  Church.  Numa  Pompilius  resided  here 
in  the  hope  that,  by  occupying  neutral  ground,  he  might 
conciliate  the  Latins  of  the  Palatine  and  the  Sabines  of 
the  Capitoline  Hills.  It  was  also  the  home  of  Julius 
Caesar  during  the  greater  part  of  his  life,  where  Calpurnia, 
his  wife,  dreamed  that  the  pediment  of  the  house  had 
fallen  down,  and  the  sacred  weapons  in  the  Sacrarium 
were  stirred  by  a  supernatural  power ;  an  omen  that  was 
but  too  truly  fulfilled  when  Caesar  went  forth  to  the 
Forum  on  the  fatal  Ides  of  March,  and  was  carried  back 
a  bloody  corpse  from  the  Curia  of  Pompey.  It  ceased 
to  become  the  residence  of  the  Pontifex  when  Augustus 
bought  the  house  of  Hortensius  on  the  Palatine,  and 
elected  to  dwell  there  instead ;  and  was  therefore  given 
over  to  the  Vestal  Virgins  to  increase  their  scanty  accom- 
modation. The  Atrium  Vestce,  or  convent  of  the  Vestal 
Virgins,  adjoined  the  Regia,  and  behind  it,  along  the 
lower  slope  of  the  Palatine,  stretched  the  sacred  grove 


172 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


of  Vesta,  which  seems  to  have  been  used  as  a  place  of 
privileged  interment  for  the  sisterhood,  as  a  number  of 
gravestones  with  the  names  of  vestal  virgins  upon  them 
were  found  in  digging  the  foundations  of  the  church  of 
Sta.  Maria  Liberatrice  in  the  seventeenth  century.  The 
residence  of  the  Pontifex  Maximus  and  of  the  Vestal 
Virgins,  who  were  regarded  as  the  highest  and  holiest 
personages  in  the  State,  gave  an  air  of  great  respectability 
to  this  neighbourhood,  and  it  became  in  consequence 
the  fashionable  quarter  of  Rome.  Close  beside  the 
house  of  the  Vestal  Virgins  was  the  far-famed  Temple 
of  Vesta,  in  which  they  ministered,  whose  podium  or 
basement,  which  is  a  mere  circular  mound  of  rough 
masonry,  may  be  seen  on  the  spot. 

The  worship  of  Vesta,  the  goddess  of  the  household  fire, 
was  one  of  the  most  primitive  forms  of  religion.  It 
doubtless  arose  from  the  great  difficulty  in  prehistoric 
times  of  producing  fire  by  rubbing  two  sticks  against  one 
another.  Such  a  flame  once  procured  would  be  carefully 
guarded  against  extinction  in  some  central  spot  by  the 
unmarried  women  of  the  household,  who  had  nothing 
else  to  do.  And  from  this  central  fire  all  the  household 
fires  of  the  settlement  would  be  obtained.  A  relic  of 
this  prehistoric  custom  existed  in  the  rule  that  if  the 
sacred  vestal  fire  was  ever  allowed  to  go  out  it  could  only 
be  kindled  anew  by  the  primitive  process  of  friction.  The 
worship  of  Vesta  survived  an  old  world  of  exhausted 
craters  and  extinct  volcanoes,  with  which  was  buried  a 
world  of  lost  nations.  The  Pelasgians  brought  to  Italy 
the  stone  of  the  domestic  hearth,  the  foundation  of  the 
family,  and  the  tombstone,  the  boundary  of  the  fields 
divided  after  the  death  of  the  head  of  the  family,  the 
foundation  of  property ;  and  upon  this  double  base  arose 
the  great  distinctive  edifice  of  the  Roman  Law,  the  special 
gift  of  Rome  to  the  civilisation  of  the  world.  Rhea  Sylvia, 
mother  of  Romulus,  was  a  Vestal  Virgin  of  Alba,  which 
shows  that  the  worship  of  Vesta  existed  in  this  region 
long  before  the  foundation  of  Rome.     The  origin  of  the 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


173 


first  temple  and  of  the  institutions  of  Vestal  Virgins  for 
its  service  was  attributed  to  Numa  Pompilius.     The  first 
building,  as  Ovid  tells  us,  was  constructed  with  wattled 
walls  and  a  thatched  roof  like  the  primitive  huts  of  the 
inhabitants.     It  was  little  more  than  a  covered  fireplace. 
It  was  the  public  hearth  of  the  new  city,  round  which 
were   gathered   all   the   private   ones.      On   it   burned 
continually  the  sacred   fire,  the   symbol  of  the  life  of 
the   state,   which  was    believed   to  have   been  brought 
from  Troy,  and  the  continuance  of  which  was  connected 
by    superstition   with  the   fortunes    of   Rome.      In    the 
secret   penetralia   of  the   temple,  where   no  man   was 
allowed   to   enter,   was  kept  with   scrupulous  care,   for 
its  preservation  was  equally  bound  up  with  the  safety  of 
the  empire,  the  Palladium,  or  image  of  Pallas,  saved  from 
the  destruction  of  Troy,  and  which  was  supposed  to  have 
originally  fallen  from  heaven.     The  circular  form  and 
the  domed  roof  of  the  temple  were  survivals  of  the  pre- 
historic huts  of  the  Aborigines,  which  were  invariably 
round,  as  the  traces  of  their  foundations  show.     With 
the  exception  of  the  Palladium,  which  remained  invisible 
during  all  the  ages   to  ordinary  mortal   eyes  until  the 
destructive  fire  in  the  Forum,  in  the  reign  of  Commodus, 
compelled  the  Vestal  Virgins  to  expose  it  in  removing  it 
for  safety  to  the  imperial  court,  there  was  in  primitive 
times  no  statue  or  material  representation  of  the  goddess 
except  the  sacred  fire  in  the  mysterious  shrine  of  the 
temple.     Indeed  the  Romans,  as  Plutarch  tells  us,  raised 
no  statue  to  the  gods  until  the  year  of  Rome  170.     In 
this  respect  the  religion  of  the  Romans,  whose  divinities 
had  no  participation  in  the  life  and  passions  of  men,  and 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  human  form,  diff"ered  widely 
from  the  religion  of  the  Greeks,  which,  inspired  by  the 
sentiment  cf  the  beautiful  in  man  and  nature,  gave  birth 

to  art. 

The  Temple  of  Vesta,  as  might  have  been  expected, 
shared  in  all  the  wonderful  changes  of  Roman  histor>'. 
It  was  abandoned  when  the  Gauls  entered  Rome,  and  the 


174 


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CHAr. 


Vestal  Virgins  took  the  sacred  fire  and  the  Palladium  to 
Caere  in  Etruria  for  safety.    It  was  destroyed  two  hundred 
and  forty-one  years  before  Christ,  when  L.  Metellus,  the 
Pontifex  Maximus  at  the  time,  saved  the  Palladium  with 
the  loss  of  his  eyesight,  and  consequently  ot  his  priesthood, 
for  which  a  statue  was  erected  to  him  in  the  Capitol. 
It  was  consumed  in  the  great  fire  of  Nero,  and  rebuilt  by 
Vespasian,  on  some  of  whose  coins  it  is  represented.     It 
was  finally  burnt  down  in  the  fire  of  Commodus,  which 
destroyed  at  the  same  time  many  important  buildings  in 
the  Forum.     The  worship  of  Vesta  was  prohibited  by 
Gratianus  in  the  year  382  of  our  era,  and  the  public 
maintenance  of  the  Vestal  Virgins  abandoned,  in  spite  of 
the  protestations  of  Symmachus  and  the  forlorn  hope  of 
the  pagan  party.     Great  as  was  the  reverence  paid  to  the 
shrine  of  Vesta,  not  being  a  temple  in  the  proper  sense  of 
the  term,  as  it  was  not  consecrated  by  augury,  it  had  not 
the  right  of  sanctuary.     Mucins  Screvola,  the  unfortunate 
Pontifex   Maximus,  was  murdered  beside  the  altar  by 
order  of  Marius,  and  his  blood  sprinkled  the  image  of  the 
goddess ;  and  Piso  Licinianus,  the  adopted  son  of  Galba, 
after  the  assassination  of  that  emperor  beside  the  Curtian 
Lake  in  the  Forum,  was  dragged  out  from  the  innermost 
shrine  of  the  temple,  to  which  he  had  fled  for  refuge, 
and    barbarously    massacred    at    the    door.       But   it    is 
impossible  to  dwell  upon  all  the  remarkable  events  with 
which  this  haunted  shrine  of  Rome's  earliest  and  most 
beautiful   worship  is   associated.      Certainly   no  greater 
object   of  interest   has    been   exhumed    among  all   the 
antiquities  of  the  Eternal  City  than  the  little  round  mass 
of  shapeless  masonry  which  has  been  identified  beyond 
all    reasonable    doubt    as   the    basement   of  the   world- 
renowned  temple,  the  household  hearth  of  old  Rome. 

Opposite  the  Temple  of  Vesta,  at  the  north-east  corner 
of  the  Forum,  where  it  ends,  is  the  magnificent  facade  of 
the  Temple  of  Antoninus  Pius  and  Faustina,  the  most 
perfect  of  all  the  Roman  temples.  There  are  six  splendid 
Corinthian  columns  in  front  and  two  at  the  sides,  each 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


175 


composed  of  a  single  block  of  green  ripple-marked 
Cipollino  marble,  about  forty-six  feet  in  height  and  five 
feet  in  diameter,  with  bases  and  capitals  of  marble, 
originally  white,  but  now  rusty  and  discoloured  by  age ; 
all  beautifully  proportioned  and  carved  in  the  finest  style 
of  ancient  art.  These  columns  were  buried  to  half  their 
height  in  medieval  times;  and  houses  were  built  up 
against  and  between  them,  the  marks  of  whose  roofs  are 
still  visible  in  indentations  near  their  summits.  These 
houses  were  removed,  and  the  ground  excavated  down  to 
the  bases  of  the  columns  in  the  sixteenth  century  by 
Palladio,  revealing  a  grand  flight  of  marble  steps,  twenty- 
one  in  number,  leading  up  to  the  temple  from  the  street. 
The  excavations  at  that  time  were  made  for  the  purpose 
of  finding  marbles  and  building  materials  for  the  Church 
of  St.  Peter's.  Two  sides  of  the  cella  of  the  temple 
still  remain,  formed  by  large  massive  blocks  of  peperino, 
probably  taken  from  the  second  wall  of  Rome,  which 
must  have  passed  very  near  to  the  east  end  of  this 
temple ;  for  the  ancient  Roman  architects  were  as 
unscrupulous  in  appropriating  the  relics  of  former  ages 
as  their  successors.  The  roughness  of  these  walls  was 
hidden  by  an  outer  casing  of  marble,  ornamented  with 
pilasters,  of  which  only  the  small  capitals  now  remain. 
Both  the  cella  and  the  portico  still  retain  a  large  portion 
of  their  magnificent  marble  entablature ;  and  the  frieze 
and  cornice  are  richly  covered  with  carvings  of  vases  and 
candelabra,  guarded  by  griflins,  exquisite  in  design  and 
execution.  The  marble  slabs  that  covered  the  whole 
outside  of  the  temple  had  been  burnt  for  lime  in  a  kiln 
that  stood  in  front  of  the  portico  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
and  in  this  lime-kiln  were  found  fragments  of  statues, 
bas-reliefs,  and  inscriptions,  which  were  about  to  be 
destroyed  in  that  barbarous  fashion. 

The  temple  was  originally  begun  by  Antoninus  Pius 
to  the  memory  of  his  unworthy  wife  Faustina  in  the 
year  142  of  our  era,  but  being  unfinished  at  his  death,  it 
was  dedicated  by  the  senate  to  both  their  names.     We 


176 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAr. 


THE  ROMAN  FORUM 


177 


see  it  represented  in  all  its  magnificence  on  some  of  the 
coins  of  this  emperor.      In  the  year  1430  Pope  Martin 
V.  built  over  its  remains  a  church  called  S.  Lorenzo  in 
Miranda,  whose  singular  ugliness  was  in  striking  contrast 
to  the  grandeur  of  the  venerable  ruin  which  embraced  it. 
The  floor  of  this  church  was  ten  feet  above  the  original 
level  of  the  temple,  and  its  roof  was  carried  twenty  feet 
above  its  cornice.      It   contained  several  tombs  of  the 
Roman  apothecaries,  to  whose  Corporation  it  belonged. 
No    one  will    regret   that   it    has   been   removed ;    the 
excavations    in    front   of  it    having   reduced   the   level 
of  the  ground  far  below  its  doorway,  and  thus  cut  off 
the  approach.     It  is  strange  to  think  of  the  two  different 
kinds  of  worship  carried  on  at  such  widely  separated 
intervals  within  this  remarkable  building,  first  a  pagan 
temple  and  then  a  Christian  church — worship  so  different 
in   name  and   yet   so    like    in   reality;    for    the    divine 
honours  paid  to  a  mortal  emperor  and  his  wife  were 
transferred  in  after  ages  to  frail  mortals  such  as  Saint 
Laurence  and  the  Virgin  Mary.     We  are  reminded  by 
the  inscription  above  the  portico  of  the  temple,  "  Divo 
Antonino  et  Divae  Faustina,"  that  the  government  of  the 
Caesars  had  become  an  earthly  omnipotence  in  the  estima- 
tion  of  the   Romans   and  the   subject  nations.      They 
looked  alone  to  Caesar  for  all  their  good,  and  from  him 
they  feared  their  chiefcst  evil.      He  had  become  to  them 
their  providence  or  their  fate.     The  adoration  offered  to 
him  was  not  a  mere  act  of  homage  or  sign  of  fealty,  but 
was  most  truly  and  in  the  highest  sense  a  worship  as  to 
a  divine  being. 

The  view  in  this  part  of  the  Forum,  looking  down 
from  the  Antonine  Temple,  is  most  striking  and  suggest- 
ive. It  reveals  some  of  the  grandest  objects  of  ancient 
Rome.  Immediately  beyond  is  the  hoary  old  church  of 
SS.  Cosma  e  Damiano,  with  mosaics  of  the  sixth  century 
on  its  tribune,  built  out  of  three  ancient  temples,  as  Dr. 
Parker  has  clearly  proved — the  round  Temple  of  Romulus 
Maxentius,  the  Temple  of  Venus,  and  the  Temple  of 


M 


Rome.     The  south  wall  of  this  last-mentioned  temple, 
built  of  huge  square  blocks  of  tufa,  to  which  the  marble 
plan  of  Rome  was  fastened  by  metal  hooks,  may  still  be 
seen  in  the  church  ;  and  it  is  interesting  as  being  the 
last  pagan  temple  which  remained  in  use  in  Rome.    Here 
was  the  last  struggle  of  paganism  with  the  unbelief  which 
itself  inspired.     The  gods  of  the  Pantheon  had  lost  all 
significance.     The  worship  of  abstract  qualities,  such  as 
Concord  and  Victory,  or  of  the  personification  of  a  local 
providence  in  the  city  of  Rome  itself,  could  not  satisfy 
the  longing  of  the  human  soul.     As  religion  decayed  the 
worship  of  the  gods  was  superseded  by  the  worship  of  the 
emperor.     Their  statues  were  decapitated  and  the  head 
of  the  emperor  was  placed  upon  them.     On  the  statue 
of  Olympic  Jove  appeared  the  bust  of  the  contemptible 
Caligula;   and  this  incongruous  adaptation  represented 
the  change  of  the  popular  faith  from  its  former  heavenly 
idealisations  to  the  most  grovelling  fetish  worship  of  the 
time.      This  deification   of  the    emperors   avenged   its 
terrible  blasphemy  by  the  sublime  wickedness  of  those 
who  were  so  raised  above  humanity.     Here,  in  this  last 
pagan    temple   of  Rome,    converted    into   one   of  the 
earliest   Christian  churches,  we    see   the  darkness  and 
despair  of  the  heathen  world  preparing  for  that  joyful 
morning  light  of  Christianity  which  has  transferred  the 
faith  of  mankind  to  foundations  which  can  never  more  be 
shaken.     Immediately  beyond  in  the  background  are  the 
huge  gloomy  arches  of  the  Basilica  of  Constantine,  fretted 
with  coffers,  suspended  in  mid-air  for  upwards  of  sixteen 
centuries,  in  defiance  of  the  laws  of  gravity  and  the  ravages 
of  time  and  of  human  destroyers,  taken  as  a  model  for 
churches  by  Roman  architects,  though  built   originally 
for  a  law  court.     In  front  is  the  Arch  of  Titus,  with  its 
well-known  sculptures  of  the  spoils  from  the  Temple  of 
Jerusalem,  spanning  the  highest  point  of  the  Via  Sacra. 
And  closing  up  the  view  is  the  grandest  ruin  in  the 
world,  the  stupendous  broken  circle  of  the  Colosseum, 
rising  tier  above   tier   into   the   blue   sky,    burnt    deep 

N 


178 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP.  V. 


brown  by  the  suns  of  ages,  holding  the  spectator  breath- 
less with  wonder,  and  thrilling  the  mind  with  the  awful 
associations  connected  with  it. 

The  Forum  lies  like  an  open  sei)ulchre  in  the  heart 
of  old  Rome.      All  is  death  there ;  the  death  of  nature 
and  the  death  of  a  race  whose  long  history  has  done 
more  to  shape  the  destiny  of  the  world  than  any  other. 
The  soil  beneath  our  feet  is  formed  by  the  ashes  of  an 
extinct    fire,  and   by  the    dust    of  a    vanished    empire. 
Everywhere  the  ruins  of  time  and  of  man  are  mingled 
with  the  relics  of  an  older  creation ;  and  the  sculptured 
marbles   of  the  temples  and  law  courts,  where   Csesar 
worshipped  and  Cicero  pled,  lie  scattered  amid  the  tufa- 
blocks,  the  cinders  of  the  long  quiescent  volcanoes  of 
the  Campagna.    Nature  and  man  have  both  accomplished 
their  work  in  this  spot;    and  the  relics  they  have  left 
behind  are  only  the  exuvire  of  the  chrysalis  out  of  which 
the  butterfly  has  emerged,  or  the  empty  wave-worn  shells 
left  high  and  dry  upon  an  ancient  coast-line.      It  is  a 
remarkable    circumstance    that    the   way  in   which    the 
Forum  originated   was   the  very   way   in   which  it  was 
destroyed.     The  cradle  of  Roman  greatness  became  its 
tomb.     The  Forum  originated  in  the  volcanic  fires  of 
earth  ;  it  passed  away  in  the  incendiary  fires  of  man.    In 
the   month  of  May    1084  the  Norman  leader,  Robert 
Guiscard,  came  with  his  troops  to  rescue  Gregory  VII. 
from  the  German  army  which  besieged  Rome.     Then 
broke  out — whether  by  accident  or  design  is  not  known — 
the  terrible  conflagration  which  extended  from  the  Capitol 
to  the  Coelian  Hill,  but  raged  with  the  greatest  intensity 
in  the  Forum.    In  that  catastrophe  classical  Rome  passed 
away,  and  from  the  ashes  of  the  fire  arose  the  Phoenix 
of  modern  Rome.     The  greatest  of  physical  empires  was 
wrecked  on  this  spot,  and  out  of  the  wreck  was  con- 
structed the  greatest  spiritual  empire  the  world  has  ever 
known.      For  the  Roman  Pontificate,  to  use  the  famous 
saying  of  Hobbes,  was  but  the  ghost  of  the  deceased 
Roman  Empire  sitting  crowned  upon  the  grave  thereof. 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE    EGYPTIAN    OBELISKS 

Among  the  first  objects  that  arrest  the  attention  and 
powerfully  excite  the  curiosity  of  the  visitor  in  Rome 
are  the  Egyptian  obelisks.  They  remind  him  impres- 
sively that  the  oldest  things  in  this  city  of  ages  are  but 
as  of  yesterday  in  comparison  with  these  imperishable 
relics  of  the  earliest  civilisation.  At  one  time  it  is  said 
that  there  were  no  less  than  forty-eight  obelisks  erected 
in  Rome, — six  of  the  largest  size  and  forty-two  of  the 
smaller, — all  conveyed  at  enormous  cost  and  with 
almost  incredible  labour  from  the  banks  of  the  Nile  to 
the  banks  of  the  Tiber.  Upwards  of  thirty  of  them 
have  perished  without  leaving  any  trace  behind.  They 
are  doubtless  buried  deep  under  the  ruins  of  ancient 
Rome,  but  the  chance  of  their  disinterment  is  very 
problematical.  One  obelisk,  indeed,  was  exposed  a 
hundred  and  forty  years  ago  in  the  square  of  the  prin- 
cipal church  of  the  Jesuits,  near  the  Pantheon;  but 
being  found  to  be  broken,  and  also  to  underlie  a  corner 
of  the  church  and  the  greater  part  of  an  adjoining 
palace,  so  that  it  could  not  be  extracted  without  seriously 
injuring  these  buildings,  it  was  covered  up  again,  and 
was  thus  lost  to  the  world.  As  it  is,  we  find  in  Rome 
the  largest  collection  of  obelisks  that  exists  at  the  present 
day  in  the  world,  and  the  best  field  for  studying  them. 

Obelisks  were  dedicated  to  the  sun,  which  was  the 
central  object  of  worship,  and  occupied  the  most  con- 


i8o 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


spicuous  position  in  the  religious  system  of  the  oldest 
nations.  Sun-worship,  that  which  waited  upon  some 
hill-top  to  catch  the  first  beams  of  the  morning  that 
created  a  new  day,  is  the  oldest  and  the  most  natural 
of  all  kinds  of  worship.  He  was  adored  as  the  source 
of  all  the  life  and  motion  and  force  in  the  world  by  the 
most  primitive  people ;  and  we  find  numerous  traces  of 
this  ancient  sun-worship  in  the  rude  stone  monuments, 
with  their  cup-shaped  symbols,  that  have  survived  on 
our  moors,  in  many  of  the  old  customs  which  still  linger 
in  our  Christianity,  and  in  the  name  by  which  the  most 
sacred  day  of  the  week  is  commonly  known  among  us. 
All  the  benefits  conferred  upon  our  world  by  the  sun 
must  have  been  strikingly  apparent  to  the  ancient 
Egyptians,  dwelling  in  a  land  exposed  to  the  sun's 
vertical  rays,  and  clothed  with  almost  tropical  beauty 
and  luxuriance.  When  they  watched  the  ebbing  of 
the  overflowing  waters  of  the  Nile,  and  saw  the  moist 
earth  on  which  the  sun's  rays  fell,  quickened  at  once 
into  a  marvellous  profusion  of  j^lant  and  animal  life,  they 
naturally  regarded  the  sun  as  the  Creator,  and  so  deified 
him  in  that  capacity.  The  origin  of  all  life,  vegetable 
and  animal,  to  those  who  stood,  as  it  were,  by  its  cradle, 
when  the  world  was  young  and  haunted  by  heaven, 
seemed  a  greater  mystery  and  wonder  than  it  is  to  us 
in  these  later  faithless  ages.  Long  familiarity  with  it 
in  its  full-grown  proportions  has  made  it  commonplace 
to  us. 

Both  the  obelisk  and  the  pyramid  were  solar  symbols, 
the  obelisk  being  the  symbol  of  the  rising  sun,  and  the 
pyramid  of  the  setting.  The  fundamental  idea  of  the 
obelisk  was  that  of  creation  by  light ;  that  of  the  pyramid, 
death  through  the  extinction  of  light.  And  this  symbol- 
ical difference  between  the  two  objects  was  practically 
expressed  by  the  different  situations  in  which  they  were 
placed ;  the  obelisks  being  all  located  on  the  eastern 
side  of  the  Nile,  that  being  the  region  of  the  rising  sun, 
and  of  the  dawn  of  life  ;    while  the   pyramids  are  all 


4 


II. 

i; 


i 

r 


VI 


THE  EGYPTIAN  OBELISKS 


i8t 


found  on  the  western  bank  of  the  river,  the  region  of 
the  sunset,  with  its  awfully  sterile  hills  and  silent  un- 
travelled  desert  of  sand  from  which  no  tidings  had  ever 
come  to  living  man,  where  the  dead  were  buried  under 
the  shades  of  night,  in  their  rock-cut  cemeteries.  It 
might  thus  seem,  that  by  placing  obelisks  in  our  church- 
yards in  association  with  the  dead,  we  were  violating 
their  original  significance,  and  guilty  of  adding  another 
to  the  many  incongruities  which  have  arisen  from  adopt- 
ing pagan  symbols  in  Christian  burying-places.  But  in 
reality  we  find  a  deeper  reason  for  the  association.  In 
some  of  the  oldest  sculptures  in  Egypt,  an  obelisk  is 
represented  as  standing  on  the  top  of  a  pyramid ;  and 
by  this  combination  it  was  meant  to  signify  the  power  of 
life  triumphing  over  death.  And  hence  the  obelisk  is 
the  most  suitable  of  all  forms  to  indicate  in  our  ceme- 
teries the  glorious  truth  of  the  resurrection,  life  rismg 
victorious  out  of  the  transitory  condition  of  death. 

And  how  admirably  did  the  obelisk  lend  itself  to  its 
symbolical  purposes !  There  was  a  most  wonderful 
harmony  between  the  idea  and  the  object  which  expressed 
it.  Being  composed  of  the  most  durable  of  all  materials, 
the  hard  indestructible  granite,  the  eternal  sun  was  thus 
fittingly  represented  by  an  object  that  lifts  its  stern  finger 
in  unchangeable  defiance  of  the  vicissitudes  of  the  seasons 
and  the  ages.  Its  highly  polished  surface  and  rich  rosy 
red  colour,  its  sharply  defined  lines  and  narrow  propor- 
tions, combined  with  its  immense  height,  suggested  the 
brilliancy  and  hue  and  form  of  a  pencil  of  light.  Its 
tall  red  column  flashing  in  the  strong  morning  radiance, 
like  a  tongue  of  flame  mounting  up  to  its  source  in  the 
solar  fire,  or  like  a  ray  of  the  halo  that  rises  up  on  the 
low  horizon  of  the  Libyan  desert,  when  the  dawn  has 
crimsoned  all  the  eastern  heavens,  might  thus  well  be 
selected  as  the  most  suitable  object  to  bring  the  invisible 
sun-god  within  the  ken  of  human  vision  and  the  range 
of  human  worship.  The  poetical  imagination  may  detect 
a  significance  even  in  the  difference  between  the  material 


1 82 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


VI 


THE  EGYPTIAN  OBELISKS 


i8: 


used  in  the  construction  of  the  obelisk,  and  that  used  in 
the  construction  of  the  pyramid,  though  this  may  not 
have  been  designed  by  the  makers.  The  obelisks  are 
all  formed  of  granite,  the  foundation-stone  of  the  globe, 
belonging  to  the  oldest  azoic  formation,  which  laid  down 
the  first  basis  for  the  appearing  of  life.  The  pyramids 
were  nearly  all  made  of  nummulitic  limestone  composed 
of  the  remains  of  organic  life  ;  a  material  which  belonged 
to  the  latest  geologic  ages,  when  whole  generations  and 
different  platforms  of  life  had  come  and  gone.  Thus 
significantly  does  the  obelisk  of  granite  suggest  by  its 
material  as  by  its  form  the  origin  of  life,  as  the  pyramid 
suggests  by  its  material  and  form  the  extinction  of  life. 

But   not  only  was  the  obelisk  raised  in  connection 
with  the  worship  of  the  sun, — it  was  also  intended  to 
honour  the  reigning  monarch  who  erected  it,  and  whose 
name  and  titles  were  engraved  upon  it  along  with  the 
name  of  the  sun.     For  it  was  a  fundamental  idea  of  the 
Egyptian  religion  that  the  king  was  not  only  the  son  of 
the  solar  god,  but  also  the  visible  human  representative 
of  his  glory.     This  was  a  favourite  conception  of  the 
ancients.     The  Incas  of  Peru   regarded  themselves  as 
direct  descendants  of  the  sun ;  and  the  monarchs  of  the 
burning  Asiatic  lands,  where  the  sun  rules  and  dominates 
everything,  assume  the  name  and  title  of  his  sons,  and 
clothe   themselves  with   his  splendour.      The  obelisks 
were  thus  the  symbols  of  the  two  great  correlative  con- 
ceptions of  the  sun  in  the  heavens,  and  his  satellite  and 
representative  on  the  earth— god  and  the  king.     This 
Egyptian  faith,  as  attested  by  the  obelisks,  the  oldest  of 
all   the   creeds,  antecedent  to  the   theologies  of  India, 
Greece,  and  Rome,  ceased  not  to  be  venerated  till  the 
advent  of  Christianity  swept  all  material  worship  away. 
It  awed,  as  Mr.  Cooper  has  well  observed,  the  mixed 
multitude  in  Alexandria  under  the   Caesars,  as  it  had 
done  the  primitive  Egyptians  under  the  oldest  Pharaohs. 
It  extended  over  a  space  of  more  than  three  thousand 
years.    During  all  that  long  period  the  obelisk  was  "  the 


S 


emblem  at  once  of  the  vivifying  power  of  the  sun  and 
of  the  divine  nature  of  the  king,  a  witness  for  the  divine 
claim  of  the  sun  to  be  worshipped,  and  of  the  right 
divine  of  the  king  to  rule."  Where  is  there  in  all  the 
world,  in  its  most  ancient  cities,  in  its  loneliest  deserts, 
any  class  of  objects  which  has  been  held  continuously 
sacred  for  so  long  a  time  ?  The  description  of  the  sun 
itself  by  Ossian  applies  almost  equally  well  to  his  worship 
as  thus  represented. 

Obelisks  as  symbols  of  the  sun  and  of  the  creative 
power  of  nature,  were  not  confined  to  Egypt.  They 
belonged  to  the  mythology  of  all  ancient  nations.  There 
are  modifications  of  them  in  India,  in  prehistoric  America, 
and  among  the  archaeological  remains  of  our  own  country. 
They  were  common  objects  in  connection  with  the 
Assyrian,  Persian  and  Phoenician  religions.  And  it 
has  been  conjectured  with  much  plausibility  that  the 
image  of  gold,  whose  height  was  threescore  cubits,  and 
the  breadth  six,  the  usual  proportions  of  an  obelisk, 
which  Nebuchadnezzar  set  up  in  the  plain  of  Dura,  in 
the  province  of  Babylon,  and  commanded  Shadrach, 
Meshach,  and  Abed-nego  to  adore,  was  in  reality  an 
obelisk  after  the  Egyptian  pattern.  Such  an  obelisk 
was  often  gilded,  and  was  associated  with  the  worship 
of  the  king  as  its  material  purpose,  and  with  the  creation 
and  origin  of  life  as  its  symbolic  meaning.  And  if  this 
was  the  case,  there  was  an  unusual  aggravation  in  this 
idolatry;  for  the  Egyptian  obelisks  themselves  were  never 
worshipped,  but  were  always  regarded  as  the  signs  of  the 
higher  powers  whose  glory  they  expressed. 

The  question  is  naturally  asked.  Where  were  the 
obelisks  originally  placed  ?  At  the  present  day  we  find 
those  of  them  that  remain  in  Egypt,  solitary  objects 
without  anything  near  them,  and  those  that  have  been 
carried  to  other  lands  have  been  set  up  in  great  open 
squares,  or  on  river  embankments  in  the  heart  of  the 
largest  cities.  Fortunately,  there  is  no  doubt  at  all  on 
this  point.     They  stood  in  pairs  at  the  doors  of  the 


1 84 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 

great  temples,  one  on  each  side,  where  they  served  the 
same  purpose  which  the  campanile  of  the  Italian  church 
or  the  spire  of  a  cathedral  serves  at  the  present  day. 
Indeed,  architects  are  of  opinion  that  church  towers  and 
steeples  are  mere  survivals  of  the  old  Egyptian  obelisks, 
which   furnished   the  original    conception.     The   tower 
corresponded  to  the  shaft  of  the  obelisk,  and  the  steeple 
to  the  sharp  pyramidal  part  in  which  the  summit  of  the 
obelisk  terminated.     And  though  there  is  usually  only 
one  spire  or  tower  now  in  connection  with  our  churches, 
there  used  to  be  two,  as  many  old  examples  still  extant 
testify,  one  standing  on  each  side  of  the  principal  entrance 
after  the  manner  of  the  Egyptian  obelisks.     The  slender 
round  towers  of  Brechin  and  Abernethy,  and  of  Devenish 
and  other  places  in  Ireland,  capped  by  a  conical  stone 
roof  terminating  in  a  single  stone,  which  were  for  a  long 
time  a  puzzle  to  the  antiquary,  are  now  ascertained  to 
be  simply  steeples  connected  with  Christian  churches  of 
the  tenth  and   eleventh   centuries.     And  just  as  these 
towers  are  now  left  isolated  and  solitary  without  a  trace 
of  the  buildings  with  which  they  were  associated,  so  the 
Egyptian  temples  have  passed  away,  and  the  obelisks 
are  left  alone  in  the  desert.      But  we  can  reconstruct  in 
imagination  the  massive  and  lofty  buildings  in  front  of 
which  they  stood,  and  where  they  showed  to  the  greatest 
advantage.      Instead  of  being  dwarfed  by  the  enormous 
masses  of  the  propylons,  their  height  gained  by  the  near 
comparison.     The  obelisks  in  our  squares  and  vast  open 
spaces  have  their  effect  destroyed  by  the  buildings  being 
at  a  distance   from   them.     There  is  no  scale  near  at 
hand  to  assist  the  eye  in  estimating  the  height ;  conse- 
quently they  seem    much   smaller  than  they  really  are. 
But  when  seen  in  the  narrow  precincts  of  a  temple  court, 
from  whose  floor  they  shot  up  into  the  blue  sky  over- 
head,  surrounded    by  great   columns    and    lofty  gates, 
breaking  the  monotony  of  the  heavy  masses  of  masonry 
of  which  the  Egyptian  temples  were  composed,  and  act- 
ing the  part   which   campanili  and    spires    perform   in 


VI 


THE  EGYPTIAN  OBELISKS 


185 


modern   churches,  a  standard  ot  comparison  was   thus 
furnished  which  greatly  enhanced  their  magnitude. 

Nothing  could  be  grander  than  the  objects  associated 
with  the  obelisks  where  they  stood.  The  temple  was 
approached  by  an  avenue  of  huge  sphinxes,  in  some 
cases  a  mile  and  a  half  long.  Drawing  nearer,  the 
worshipper  saw  two  lofty  obelisks  towering  up  a  hundred 
feet  in  height,  on  the  right  and  left.  Behind  these  he 
would  observe  with  awe  four  or  six  gigantic  statues  seated 
with  their  hands  on  their  knees.  And  at  the  back  of 
the  statues  he  would  gaze  with  astonishment  upon  two 
massive  towers  or  pylons,  broader  at  the  base  than  at 
the  summit,  two  hundred  feet  wide  and  a  hundred  and 
twenty  feet  high,  crowned  by  a  gigantic  cornice,  with 
their  whole  surface  covered  with  coloured  sculptures, 
representing  one  of  the  great  dramas  in  the  reign  of  a 
victorious  monarch.  Above  them  would  rise  the  tall 
masts  of  coloured  cedar-wood,  inserted  in  sinkings 
chased  into  the  wall,  surmounted  by  the  expanded 
banners  of  the  king,  or  the  heraldic  bearings  of  the 
temple  floating  in  the  breeze.  Between  the  huge  pro- 
pylons  opened  up  the  great  gateway  of  the  temple,  sixty 
feet  high,  which  led  into  a  vast  court,  surrounded  by 
columns  and  open  to  the  sky.  Beyond  were  walls  whose 
roofs  were  supported  by  a  forest  of  enormous  pillars, 
which  seemed  to  have  been  raised  by  giants.  Each 
hall  diminished  in  size,  but  increased  in  sacredness, 
until  the  inmost  sanctuary  was  reached  ;  small,  dark,  and 
awful  in  its  obscurity.  Here  was  the  holy  shrine  in 
the  shape  ot  a  boat  or  ark,  having  in  it  a  kind  of  chest 
partially  veiled,  in  which  was  hid  the  mystic  symbol  of 
the  god.  Like  the  tabernacle  of  Israel,  the  common 
people  were  not  allowed  to  go  farther  than  the  outer 
court  beyond  the  obelisks ;  only  kings  and  priests  being 
permitted  to  penetrate  into  the  interior  recesses,  there  to 
observe  the  ritual  ceremonies  of  the  mysterious  Egyptian 
worship.  On  the  plan  of  the  Egyptian  temple  were 
modelled  the   sacred   buildings   of  the  Jews;   and  the 


1 86 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


famous  pillars  of  burnished  brass,  wonderful  for  their 
workmanship  and  their  costly  material,  which  Solomon 
erected  in  the  court  of  his  temple,  called  Jachin  and 
Boaz,  had  their  prototypes  in  the  obelisks  of  the  Nile. 

The  obelisk  belongs  essentially  to  a  level  country; 
and  there  is  no  habitable  region  in  the  world  so  uni- 
formly flat  and  unbroken  by  any  elevations  or  depressions 
of  surface  as  the  valley  of  the  Nile.  There  it  produces 
its  greatest  effect ;  its  size  is  not  dwarfed  by  surrounding 
heights,  and  comes  out  by  contrast  with  the  small  objects 
that  diversify  the  plain.  It  forms  a  conspicuous  landmark, 
a  salient  point  on  which  the  eye  may  rest  with  relief  as 
it  takes  in  the  wide  featureless  horizon.  In  an  artificial 
landscape,  where  there  is  no  wild  unmixed  nature,  where 
every  inch  of  ground  is  cultivated,  it  is  the  appropriate 
culmination  of  that  triumph  of  human  art  which  is  visible 
everywhere.  It  was  a  sense  of  this  harmony  of  relation 
that  induced  the  builders  of  the  great  cathedrals  and 
temples  of  the  world  to  place  them,  not  amid  varied  and 
rugged  scenery,  where  they  might  be  brought  into  com- 
parison with  nature's  work,  but  uniformly  on  level  ex- 
panses of  land.  There  they  form  the  crowning  symbol 
of  man's  loving  care  and  painstaking  endeavour,  and 
give  to  the  artificial  landscape,  which  man  has  entirely 
subdued  for  his  own  uses,  the  finishing  touch  of  power. 

Obelisks  are  the  most  enduring  monuments  of  anti- 
quity, and  yet  no  class  of  objects  has  undergone  such 
extraordinary  vicissitudes.  The  history  of  the  changes 
to  which  they  have  been  subjected  reads  like  a  romance. 
At  a  remote  age,  not  long  after  they  were  erected,  most 
of  them  were  cast  down  during  some  political  catas- 
trophe, which  shook  the  whole  country  to  its  foundations. 
Under  a  subsequent  dynasty  the  obelisks  seem  to  have 
been  lifted  up  to  their  former  places,  and  regarded  with 
the  old  veneration.  After  the  lapse  of  nearly  a  thousand 
years,  the  land  was  again  convulsed  by  a  terrible  revolu- 
tion, the  nature  of  which  is  still  wrapped  up  in  almost 
impenetrable  myster}'.     A  warlike  migratory  race  came 


VI 


THE  EGYPTIAN  OBELISKS 


187 


from  the  north-east,  and  subdued  the  whole  country. 
This  is  known  as  the  Hyksos  invasion,  or  the  invasion 
of  the  Shepherd  Kings,  and  produced  the  same  effects 
in  Egypt  as  the  Norman  invasion  produced  in  Eng- 
land. Previous  to  this  period  the  horse  seemed  to  have 
been  altogether  unknown ;  but  after  this  date  it  uniformly 
appears  in  Egyptian  paintings  and  sculptures.  The 
Hyksos  must  therefore  have  been  a  pastoral  race,  in  all 
likelihood  belonging  to  the  plains  of  Tartary;  and, 
mounted  on  horses,  they  would  find  little  difficulty  in 
overcoming  the  foot  soldiery  of  Egypt.  When  they  had 
obtained  possession  of  the  country,  they  burnt  down  the 
cities,  demolished  the  temples,  and  overthrew  the  obelisks. 
This  disaster,  the  most  dreadful  which  Egypt  had  ever 
known,  followed  suddenly  upon  a  period  of  extraordinary 
prosperity,  when  new  cities  were  built,  and  old  cities 
enlarged ;  works  of  great  public  utility  were  constructed, 
a  mercantile  intercourse  established  with  the  surround- 
ing nations,  and  the  arts  of  painting,  sculpture,  and 
architecture,  favoured  by  the  long  peace  and  the  abund- 
ant resources  of  the  country,  reached  their  highest 
excellence.  The  reversal  of  all  these  signs  of  prosperity 
was  so  overwhelming,  that  the  Egyptians  of  subsequent 
ages  looked  back  upon  this  period  of  subjection  under  a 
foreign  yoke  which  lay  upon  them  for  five  hundred  years, 
with  bitter  resentment.  When  the  hated  dynasty  was 
at  an  end,  the  Egyptians  obliterated,  as  far  as  they  could, 
every  sign  of  its  supremacy,  chiselled  out  the  names  of 
its  kings  on  their  monuments,  and  destroyed  their 
records,  so  that  few  traces  of  this  revolution  remain 
to  dispel  the  strange  mystery  in  which  it  is  involved. 
They  could  never  bear  to  hear  the  detested  names  of 
the  Shepherd  Kings ;  and  this  circumstance  throws 
light  upon  the  passage  in  Genesis  which  says  that  the 
occupation  of  a  shepherd  was  an  abomination  to  the 
Egyptians.  Under  the  patronage  of  the  new  dynasty 
the  arts  which  had  been  destroyed  were  again  restored, 
the  monuments  of  the  suppressed  religion  were  freed 


i88 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


from  their  indignities,  and  once  more  reinstated  with 
the  old  honours,  and  the  whole  country  was  recon- 
structed. But,  while  the  temples  were  re-erected,  and 
the  old  worship  established  with  even  greater  splendour, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  many  of  the  earlier  obelisks,' 
owing  to  their  smaller  size,  as  compared  with  the  other 
gigantic  monuments  of  Egypt,  had  been  destroyed  past 
all  reconstruction;  and  some  of  them  remain  in  the 
land  at  the  present  day  on  the  sites  where,  and  in  the 
exact  manner  in  which,  they  were  overturned  by  the 
Shepherd  Kings. 

But  greater  changes  still  happened  to  the  Egyptian 
obelisks  after  this.     Previously  they  had  been  devastated 
and  overturned  on  their  own  soil.     But  now  they  excited 
the  cupidity  of  the  foreign  invaders  of  Egypt,  and  were 
carried  away  to  distant  lands  as  trophies  of  their  victories. 
The  first  obelisks  that  were  removed  in  this  way  were  two 
of  the  principal  ones  that  adorned  one  of  the  temples  of 
'J^hebes.    After  the  capture  of  Thebes  by  Assurbanipal,  the 
Assyrian  king,  the  famous  Sardanapalus  of  the  Greeks,  they 
were  transported  to  the  conqueror's  palace  at  Nineveh, 
and  were  afterwards  lost  for  ever  in  the  destruction  of 
that  city,  about  sixty  years  later,  or  about  six  hundred 
years  before  Christ.      The  transportation  of  these  enor- 
mous masses  of  stone  across  the  country  to  the  seashore, 
down   the   Red   Sea,    over  the   Indian   Ocean,    up   the 
Persian  Gulf,  and  the  river  Tigris,  to  their  destination  in 
the  palace  of  Nineveh,  nearly  two  thousand  miles,  must 
have  been  a  feat  of  engineering  skill  at  that  early  period 
of  the  world's  history,  far  more  wonderful  in  regard  to 
the  difficulties  overcome,  without  any  precedent  to  guide, 
and  considering  the  rudeness  of  the  means  of  tran'sport' 
than  anything  that  has  ever  been  attempted  since  in  the 
same  line.      The  example  of  the  Assyrian  tyrant  was 
followed,    after  a   long  interval,   by   the   Romans,  who 
sought  to  magnify  and  commemorate  their  conquests  in 
Egypt  by  spoiling  the  land  of  its  characteristic  monu- 
ments.    The  Caesars,  one  after  another,  for  more  than  a 


VI 


THE  EGYPTIAN  OBELISKS 


189 


hundred  years,  took  advantage  of  their  victories  and  the 
ruin  of  the  unhappy  land  of  Egypt  to  convey  its  beautiful 
obelisks  to  their  own  capital  to  permanently  adorn  one 
or  other  of  the  various  places  of  public  resort.  They 
seem  to  have  set  almost  the  same  high  value  upon  these 
singular  monuments  which  their  inventors  did.  Pliny 
and  Suetonius  describe  the  almost  incredible  magnitude 
of  the  vessels  in  which  these  gigantic  masses  of  stone 
were  conveyed  to  Ostia,  the  harbour  town,  and  from 
thence  up  the  Tiber  to  Rome.  The  huge  triremes  were 
propelled  by  the  force  of  hundreds  of  rowers  across  the 
waters  of  the  Mediterranean.  From  the  quay  at  Rome 
they  were  dragged  and  pushed,  by  the  brute  force  of 
thousands  in  the  old  Egyptian  manner,  on  low  carts 
supported  on  rollers  instead  of  wheels,  to  their  destina- 
tion, where  they  were  set  upright  by  a  complicated 
machinery  of  ropes  and  huge  upright  beams. 

How  many  obelisks  of  Egyptian  origin  existed  at 
one  time  in  the  world  we  do  not  know.  They  were  un- 
doubtedly very  numerous  ;  but  many  of  them  were  broken 
up  for  building  materials.  The  famous  column  called 
Pompey's  Pillar  stands  upon  a  fragment  of  an  ancient 
obelisk ;  and  tradition  asserts  that  there  are  many  similar 
fragments  of  greater  or  less  antiquity  under  the  ruins  of 
the  older  houses  of  Alexandria.  At  present  forty-two 
obelisks  are  known  to  be  in  existence  in  different  parts  of 
the  world.  Of  these,  seventeen  remain  in  Egypt  on  their 
original  sites,  of  which  no  less  than  eleven  are  prostrate 
on  the  ground,  having  been  overturned  by  some  political 
or  religious  revolution,  by  the  force  of  an  earthquake,  or 
by  the  slow  undermining  of  the  infiltrated  waters  of  the 
Nile.  No  less  than  twelve  of  the  oldest  and  grandest 
are  still  to  be  seen  standing  erect  in  Rome,  where  they 
constitute  by  far  the  most  striking  and  memorable  monu- 
ments. The  others  are  distributed  in  various  places 
wide  apart.  One  is  in  Paris,  two  are  in  Constantinople, 
a  fourth,  the  famous  Cleopatra's  Needle,  is  on  the 
Thames  Embankment,  in  the  heart  of  London ;  a  fifth, 


I90 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 

its  old  companion  in  Alexandria,  is  now  in  one  of  the 
public  squares  of  New  York.  And  there  are  several 
diminutive  ones,  from  eight  feet  in  height  downwards,  in 
the  British  Museum,  in  the  Florentine  Museum'  in 
Florence,  in  Benevento  in  Italy,  and  in  the  town  of 
Alnwick  in  Northumberland. 

The  oldest  of  all  the  obelisks  is  the  beautiful  one  of 
rosy  granite  which  stands  alone  among  the  green  fields 
on  the  banks  of  the  Nile  not  far  from  Cairo.     It  is  the 
gravestone  of  a  great  ancient  city  which  has  vanished 
and  left  only  this  relic  behind.     That  city  was  the  Beth- 
shemesh  of  Scripture,  the  famous  On,  which  is  memor- 
able to  all  Bible  readers  as  the  residence  of  the  priest 
Potipherah   whose    daughter   Ascnath   Joseph    married. 
The  Greeks  called  it  Heliopolis,  the  city   of  the   sun, 
because  there  the  worship  of  the  sun  had  its  chief  centre 
and  its  most  sacred  shrines.      It  was  the  seat  of  the  most 
ancient    university    in    the    world,    to    which    youthful 
students  came  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  to  learn  the 
occult  wisdom  which  the  priests  of  On  alone  could  teach. 
Thales,  Solon,  Eudoxus,  Pythagoras,  and  Plato,  all  studied 
there,  perhaps  Moses  too.     It  was  also  the  birthplace  of 
the  sacred   literature  of  Egypt,  where  were  written   on 
papyrus  leaves  the  original  chapters  of  the  oldest  book  in 
the  world,  generally  known  as  the  "Book  of  the  Dead," 
giving    a    most    striking    account    of  the    conflicts   and 
triumphs  of  the  life  after  death ;  a  whole  copy  or  frag- 
ment of  which  every  Egyptian,  rich  or  poor,  wished  to 
have  buried  with  him  in  his  coffin,  and  portions  of  which 
are  found  inscribed  on  every  mummy  case  and  on  the 
walls  of  every  tomb.     In   front   of  one   of  the  principal 
temples  of  the  sun,  in  this  magnificent  city,  stood  along 
With  a  companion,  long  since  destroyed,  the  sohtary  obelisk 
which  we  now  behold  on  the  spot.      It  alone,  as  I  have 
said,  has  survived  the  wreck  of  all  the  glory  of  the  place, 
as  if  to  assure  us  that  what  is  given  to  God,  however 
ignorantly    and    superstitiously,   endures,    while    all    the 
other   works    of  man  perish.      It   was    constructed    by 


VI 


THE  EGYPTIAN  OBELISKS 


igr 


Usirtesen  I.,  who  is  supposed  to  have  reigned  two 
thousand  eight  hundred  years  before  Christ,  and  has 
outlasted  all  the  dynastic  changes  of  the  land,  and  still 
stands  where  it  originally  stood  nearly  forty-seven  cen- 
turies ago.  What  appears  of  its  shaft  above  ground  is 
sixty-eight  feet  in  height,  but  its  base  is  buried  in  the 
mud  of  the  Nile ;  and  year  after  year  the  inundation  of 
the  river  deposits  its  film  of  soil  around  its  foot,  and 
buries  it  still  deeper  in  its  sacred  grave.  Down  the 
centre  of  each  of  its  four  faces  runs  a  line  of  deeply-cut 
hieroglyphics,  in  whose  cavities  the  wild  mason -bees 
construct  their  mud -cells  and  store  their  honey.  No- 
thing can  exceed  the  beauty  and  distinctness  of  these 
carvings.  The  pictures  of  birds  and  beasts,  chiselled 
in  the  hard  polished  granite,  have  a  purity  of  form  and 
line,  a  directness  of  expression  and  intention,  which  is 
most  impressive.  Its  top  is  somewhat  damaged,  having 
been  originally  protected,  as  was  the  case  with  many  of 
the  obelisks  which  were  not  finely  finished  to  a  point, 
with  a  capping  of  gilded  bronze  that  remained  intact  till 
the  thirteen  century.  The  inscription  on  its  sides  con- 
tains nothing  of  historic  value.  It  is  simply  a  dedication 
to  Usirtesen,  who  constructed  it,  under  the  title  of 
Horus,  or  the  rising  sun,  which  was  borne,  as  I  have 
said,  by  the  kings  of  Egypt  on  account  of  their  supposed 
origin  as  an  incarnation  of  the  sun. 

At  Luxor,  a  single  obelisk,  the  property  of  the 
English,  still  maintains  its  ancient  position.  It  is  very 
beautiful,  formed  of  red  granite,  and  covered  with  elegantly 
carved  inscriptions,  running  up  each  of  the  four  faces. 
The  hieroglyphics  are  cut  to  an  unusual  depth,  and  are 
remarkably  clear  and  well-formed,  indicating  that  the 
monument  was  raised  in  honour  of  Rameses  the  Great, 
the  most  illustrious  of  all  the  Egyptian  monarchs,  and 
the  most  magnificent  and  prolific  architect  the  world  has 
ever  seen.  The  top  of  the  obelisk  was  originally  left  in 
a  rough  unfinished  state,  the  roughness  having  been 
concealed  by  a  capping  of  bronze ;  but  this  having  been 


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removed  long  ago,  the  surface  has  become  very  much 
eroded  by  exposure,  which  somewhat  detracts  from  the 
elegance  of  the  shaft.  It  has  also  the  peculiarity  that  its 
two  inner  faces  are  sensibly  curved — a  peculiarity  which 
it  is  supposed  was  designed  to  make  the  sunlight  fall 
with  softer  effect,  so  as  to  make  the  shadows  less  crude, 
and  the  angles  less  sharp.  The  shaft,  which  is  eighty- 
two  feet  high  by  eight  feet  in  diameter  at  the  base,  is 
elevated  upon  a  pedestal,  which  is  adorned  by  statues  in 
high  relief  of  dog-headed  monkeys  standing  in  an  attitude 
of  adoration  at  the  corners  worshipping  the  sun,  and  also 
by  standing  figures  of  the  god  of  the  Nile  presenting 
offerings,  incised  in  the  stone  like  the  hieroglyphics  of 
the  shaft.  The  surroundings  of  this  obelisk  are  far 
grander  than  those  of  any  other  obelisk  in  the  world. 
At  present  the  extent  and  dimensions  of  the  ruins  of 
Thebes  produce  an  overwhelming  effect  upon  the  visitor. 
But  it  is  almost  impossible  for  us  to  imagine  its  magnifi- 
cence when  its  temples  and  obelisks  were  in  their  full 
perfection,  and  the  great  Rameses  was  carried  on  the 
shoulders  of  his  officers  through  the  ranks  of  adoring 
slaves  to  behold  the  completion  of  the  works  which  had 
been  designed  to  perpetuate  his  glory.  The  ancient  city, 
divided  in  the  middle  by  the  Nile,  as  London  is  by  the 
Thames  or  Glasgow  by  the  Clyde,  covered  the  vast  plain, 
with  great  houses  in  the  outskirts  standing  in  richly  culti- 
vated gardens,  each  temple  surrounded  by  its  own  little 
sacred  lake,  over  which  the  bodies  of  the  dead  were 
carried  by  the  priests  before  burial,  and  the  beautiful 
Mokattam  Hills  bounding  the  view,  wearing  the  soft  lilac 
hue  of  distance.  Only  two  or  three  places  on  earth  can 
rival  the  overwhelming  interest  which  the  city  possesses. 
But  the  colossal  associated  temples  of  Karnac  and  Luxor 
are  absolutely  unique.  There  is  nothing  on  earth  to 
equal  them.  They  are  man's  greatest  achievements  in 
religious  architecture.  Long  rows  of  stupendous  pillars, 
covered  from  base  to  top  with  coloured  pictures  and 
hieroglyphics,   containing    a    whole    library    of  actually 


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193 


written  and  pictured  history  and  religion,  look  "like  a 
Brobdingnagian  forest  turned  into  stone,"  in  the  midst  of 
which  the  visitor  feels  himself  an  insignificant  insect.  A 
sense  of  superhuman  awfulness,  of  personal  nothingness 
and  irresistible  power,  is  what  these  stupendous  structures 
inspire  in  even  the  most  callous  spectator.  A  confused 
mass  of  broken  columns  and  heaps  of  huge  sculptured 
stones  present  an  appearance  as  if  the  old  giants  had 
been  at  war  on  the  spot,  hurling  rocks  at  each  other. 
Between  Luxor  and  Karnac  extended  an  avenue  of 
sphinxes,  two  miles  long,  numbering  more  than  four 
thousand  pieces  of  sculpture,  now  represented  by  muti- 
lated formless  blocks  of  stone.  We  see  in  these  vast 
temples,  which  were  raised  by  a  people  inspired  with  the 
sentiment  that  they  were  the  greatest  of  all  nations,  to  be 
the  chief  shrines  of  the  religion  of  the  country,  the  fruits 
of  the  plunder  and  the  tribute  of  Asia  and  Africa.  The 
funds  necessary  to  build  them  had  been  procured  by 
robbing  other  nations ;  and  most  of  the  work  was  done 
by  captives  taken  in  war.  Many  a  fair  province  had 
been  desolated  of  its  inhabitants,  many  a  splendid  city 
spoiled  of  its  riches,  in  order  to  construct  these  awful 
halls.  Unfortunately,  the  annual  overflow  of  the  inunda- 
tion of  the  Nile  covers  the  ground  to  the  depth  of  a  foot 
or  two,  staining  and  eating  away  the  bases  of  the  columns, 
and  overthrowing  their  enormous  drums  and  architraves. 
The  destruction  cannot  be  prevented,  for  the  water 
infiltrates  through  the  soil ;  and  some  day,  ere  long,  the 
remaining  columns  will  be  hurled  down,  and  the  pride 
of  Karnac  will  lie  prone  in  the  dust. 

Passing  westward  to  Rome,  the  largest  obelisk  not 
only  in  the  Eternal  City  but  in  the  whole  world  is  that 
which  now  adorns  the  square  of  St.  John  Lateran.  It  is, 
as  usual,  of  red  granite  much  darkened  and  corroded  by 
time,  and  stands  with  its  pedestal  and  cross  one  hundred 
and  forty-one  feet  high  ;  the  shaft  alone  being  one  hundred 
and  eight  feet  seven  inches  in  height,  with  faces  about 
nine  feet  and  a  half  wide  at  the  base ;  the  whole  mass 

o 


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195 


weighing  upwards  of  four  hundred  and  sixty  tons.  It  was 
found  among  the  ruins  of  the  Circus  Maximus  broken 
into  three  pieces,  and  was  dug  up  by  order  of  Pope 
Sixtus  v.,  conveyed  to  its  present  site,  and  re-erected  by 
the  celebrated  architect  Fontana  in  1588.  The  lower 
end  had  been  so  much  injured  by  its  fall,  that  in  order 
to  enable  it  to  stand,  it  was  found  necessary  to  cut  off 
about  two  feet  and  a  half  to  obtain  a  level  base.  On  the 
top  of  it  Fontana  added  by  way  of  ornament  four  bronze 
lions,  surmounted  by  three  mountain  peaks,  out  of  which 
sprung  the  cross,  as  the  armorial  bearings  of  the  Popes. 
Thus  crowned  wnth  the  cross,  and  consecrated  to  the 
honour  of  Christianity,  this  noble  relic  of  antiquity 
acquires  an  additional  interest  from  its  nearness  to  the 
great  Basilica  of  the  Lateran,  which  is  the  representative 
cathedral  of  the  Papacy  and  the  mother  church  of 
Christendom,  and  to  the  Lateran  Palace,  for  a  thousand 
years  the  residence  of  the  Popes  of  Rome. 

The  history  of  the  Lateran  obelisk  is  unusually  varied. 
It  was  originally  constructed  by  Thothmes  III.,  and 
set  up  by  him  before  the  great  temple  of  Amen  at 
Heliopolis.  But  being  an  old  man  at  the  time,  he  left 
his  successor  to  complete  it  by  adding  most  of  the  hiero- 
glyphics. It  took  thirty-six  years  to  carve  these  sculp- 
tures ;  the  four  sides  from  top  to  bottom  being  covered 
with  inscriptions  in  the  purest  style  of  Egyptian  art. 
P'rom  one  of  these  inscriptions  we  learn  that  the  obelisk 
was  thrown  down  in  Egypt  probably  during  the  invasion 
of  the  Shepherd  Kings,  and  was  re-erected  by  the  great 
Rameses,  who  did  not,  contrary  to  the  usual  custom, 
arrogate  to  himself  the  honours  of  his  predecessor. 
These  sculptures  tell  us  of  monarchs  who  had  reigned, 
and  conquered,  and  died  long  before  the  mythic  times, 
when  the  "  pious  ^neas,"  as  Virgil  tells  us,  landed  on 
the  Italian  shore,  and  Romulus  ploughed  his  significant 
furrow  round  the  Palatine  Hill.  A  thousand  years  before 
the  foundation  of  Rome,  and  two  thousand  years  before 
the  Christian  era,  it  had  been  excavated  from  the  quarries 


of  Syene  and  worshipped  at  Heliopolis.  It  was  as  old 
to  the  Caesars  as  the  days  of  the  Caesars  are  to  us. 
Pliny  tells  us  that  the  work  of  quarrying,  conveying, 
and  setting  it  up  employed  twenty  thousand  men; 
and  there  is  a  dim  tradition  that  so  anxious  was  the 
king  for  its  safety,  when  it  was  erected,  that  in  order 
to  ensure  this  he  bound  his  own  son  to  the  top  of  it.  A 
close  examination  of  the  hieroglyphics  reveals  the  curious 
fact  that  the  name  of  the  god  Amen  wherever  it  occurs, 
is  more  deeply  carved  than  the  other  figures,  in  order  to 
obliterate  the  name  of  some  other  deity  which  had  previ- 
ously occupied  its  place.  It  is  supposed  that  this  circum- 
stance indicates  a  theological  revolution  which  happened 
in  the  history  of  Egypt  when  Amenhotep  HI.,  the 
Memnon  of  the  Greek  historian,  married  an  Arabian  wife 
of  the  name  of  Taia,  who  introduced  her  own  religion 
into  her  adopted  country,  as  Jezebel,  the  wife  of  Ahab, 
introduced  the  worship  of  Baal  into  Israel.  When  this 
dynasty  was  overthrown,  in  the  course  of  about  fifty 
years,  the  old  faith  was  restored,  and  the  names  of  the 
old  gods  substituted  for  those  which  had  usurped  their 
place  on  the  religious  monuments.  It  is  supposed  that 
the  Lateran  obelisk  was  the  one  before  which  Cambyses, 
the  great  Persian  conqueror,  stood  lost  in  admiration, 
arrested  in  his  semi-religious  course  of  destroying  the 
popular  monuments  of  Egypt.  Augustus  intended  to 
have  removed  it  to  Rome,  but  was  deterred  by  the 
difficulty  of  the  undertaking,  and  also  by  superstitious 
scruples,  because  it  had  been  specially  dedicated  to  the 
sun,  and  fixed  immovably  in  his  temple.  Constantine 
the  Great  had  no  such  scruples,  believing,  as  he  said, 
that  "he  did  no  injury  to  religion  if  he  removed  a 
wonder  from  one  temple,  and  again  consecrated  it  in 
Rome,  the  temple  of  the  whole  world."  He  died,  how- 
ever, before  he  had  completed  his  design,  having  suc- 
ceeded only  in  transporting  the  obelisk  to  Alexandria, 
from  whence  his  son  and  successor  Constantius  transferred 
it  to  Rome,  and  placed  it  on  the  Spina  of  the  Great 


I 


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Circus.  So  clumsily,  however,  was  it  erected  in  this 
place,  that  several  deep  holes  had  to  be  drilled  in  the 
upper  part  of  it,  in  order  that  ropes  for  hauling  it  up 
might  be  put  through  them  ;  a  defect  in  engineering  skill 
which  has  disfigured  the  obelisk,  and  contrasts  strikingly 
with  the  resources  of  the  ancient  Egyptians,  who  were 
able  to  raise  the  stone  to  its  position  without  such  a 
device.  The  obelisk  is  thus  an  enduring  monument  of 
three  great  rulers — Thothmes,  who  first  constructed  it 
in  Heliopolis ;  Constantine,  who  removed  it  to  Rome ; 
and  Pope  Sixtus  V.,  who  conveyed  it  from  the  Circus 
Maximus,  and  re-erected  it  where  it  now  stands. 

Next  in  point  of  height  to  the  Lateran  obelisk  is 
the  one  that  stands  in  the  great  square  of  St.  Peter's, 
between  two  beautiful  fountains  that  are  continually 
showering  high  in  the  air  their  radiant  sunlit  spray. 
It  is  meant  to  serve  as  the  gnomon  of  a  gigantic  dial, 
traced  in  lines  of  white  marble  in  the  pavement  of  the 
square.  Its  rosy  surface  glistening  in  the  rays  of  the 
sun,  and  its  long  shadow  cast  before  it  on  the  ground, 
make  it  a  very  impressive  object.  Its  origin  is  involved 
in  mystery,  for  there  is  no  inscription  on  it  to  tell  who 
erected  it,  or  where  it  came  from.  This  absence  of 
hieroglyphics  points  to  its  having  been  an  unfinished 
work — something  having  prevented  its  constructor  from 
recording  on  it  the  purpose  of  its  erection,  as  was  usually 
the  case.  But  as  the  vacant  shadow  of  the  dial  and 
the  blank  empty  lines  of  the  spectrum  are  more  sug- 
gestive than  any  sunlit  spaces,  so  the  blank  unwritten 
sides  of  this  obelisk  give  rise  to  more  speculations  than 
if  they  had  been  carved  from  head  to  foot  with  hiero- 
glyphics. On  account  of  this  peculiarity,  some  authors 
have  not  hesitated  to  consider  it  a  mere  imitation  obelisk, 
constructed  by  the  Romans  at  a  comparatively  late 
period.  This  idea,  however,  is  refuted  by  the  evidence 
of  Pliny,  who  regarded  it  as  a  genuine  Egyptian  relic, 
and  tells  us  that  it  was  cut  from  the  quarry  of  Syene, 
and   dedicated   to   the  sun   by  the  son  of  Sesores,  in 


VI 


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197 


obedience  to  an  oracle,  after  his  recovery  from  blindness. 
It  is  generally  believed  that  it  first  stood  before  one  of 
the  temples  of  Heliopolis,  was  then  removed  to  Alex- 
andria, and  finally  transported  to  Rome  by  Caligula. 
This  emperor  constructed  a  special  vessel  for  the 
purpose,  of  greater  dimensions  than  had  ever  been  seen 
before  ;  and  after  it  had  brought  the  obelisk  to  the 
banks  of  the  Tiber,  he  commanded  it  to  be  filled  with 
stones,  and  sunk  as  a  caisson  in  the  harbour  of  Ostia, 
which  he  was  constructing  at  the  time.  On  arriving  at 
Rome  the  obelisk  was  set  up  on  the  Spina  of  the  Circus 
of  Nero,  which  is  now  occupied  by  the  sacristy  of  St. 
Peter's  Church.  For  fifteen  centuries  the  obelisk 
remained  undisturbed  on  its  site,  the  only  one  in  the 
city  that  escaped  being  overthrown.  At  last  its  founda- 
tion giving  way,  so  that  it  leaned  dangerously  towards 
the  old  Basilica  of  St.  Peter's,  Sixtus  V.  formed  the 
design  of  removing  it  to  where  it  now  stands,  a  very 
short  distance  from  the  original  spot.  The  record  of  its 
re-erection,  the  first  in  papal  Rome,  by  Fontana — a 
work  of  extreme  difficulty  and  imposing  ceremonial 
magnificence,  which  was  richly  rewarded  by  the  grateful 
Pope — is  exceedingly  interesting.  A  curious  legend 
is  usually  related  in  connection  with  it.  A  papal  edict 
was  proclaimed  threatening  death  to  any  one  who  should 
utter  a  loud  word  while  the  operation  of  lifting  and 
settling  the  obelisk  was  going  on.  As  the  "huge  crystal- 
lisation of  Egyptian  sweat "  rose  on  its  basis  there  was 
a  sudden  stoppage,  the  hempen  cables  refused  to  do 
their  work,  and  the  hanging  mass  of  stone  threatened  to 
fall  and  destroy  itself.  Suddenly  from  out  the  breathless 
crowd  rose  a  loud,  clear  voice,  "Wet  the  ropes."  There 
was  inspiration  in  the  suggestion  ;  the  architect  acted 
upon  it,  and  the  obelisk  at  once  took  its  stand  on  its 
base,  where  it  has  firmly  remained  ever  since.  Not  only 
was  the  sailor  Bresca  pardoned  for  transgressing  the 
papal  command,  but  he  was  rewarded,  and  the  district 
of  Bordighera,  from  which  he  came,  received  the  privilege 


> 


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199 


of  supplying  the  palm  leaves  for  the  use  of  Rome  on 
Palm  Sunday — a  privilege  which  it  still  possesses,  and 
which  forms  the  principal  trade  of  the  place. 

To  me  the  most  familiar  and  interesting  of  all  the 
Roman  obelisks  is  that  which  stands  in  the  centre  of 
the  Piazza  del  Popolo,  the  finest  and  largest  square  in 
Rome.     It  is  about  eighty  feet  high,  carved  with  hiero- 
glyphics, with  four  marble  Egyptian  lions,  one  at  each 
corner  of  the  platform  on  which  it  stands,  pouring  from 
their  mouths  copious  streams  of  water  into  large  basins, 
with  a  refreshing  sound.     Lions  in  Egypt  were  regarded 
as  symbols  of  the  sun  when  passing  through  the  zodiacal 
sign  of  Leo,  the  time  when  the  annual  inundation  of 
the  Nile  occurred.     They  had  thus  a  deep  significance 
in  connection  with  water.     The  obelisk  was  originally 
erected  in  front  of  the  Temple  of  the  Sun  at  Heliopolis, 
by  the  great  Rameses,  the  Sesostris  of  the  Greeks,  whose 
personal  character  and  wide  conquests  fill  a  larger  space 
in  the  history  of  ancient  Egypt  than  those  of  any  other 
monarch.    From  Heliopolis  it  was  removed  to  Rome,  after 
the  battle  of  Actium,  by  Augustus,  and  placed  on  the  Spina 
of  the  Circus  Maximus,  the  sports  of  which  were  under 
the  special  protection  of  Apollo,  the  sun-god,  by  whose 
favour  it  was  supposed  that  the  Egyptian  victory  had 
been  achieved.     For  four  hundred  years  it  acted  as  a 
gnomon,   regulating  by  the  length  and  direction  of  its 
shadow  the  hours  of  the  public  games  of  the  circus  ;  and 
then  it  was  overturned  during  those  troublous  days  in 
which  the  empire  was  rent  asunder.     Twelve  centuries 
of  decay  and  wreck  had  buried  it  from  the  eyes  of  men, 
until  it  was  dug  up  and  placed  where  it  now  stands,  in 
1587J   by  Pope  Sixtus  V.,  to  whom  modern  Rome  is 
indebted  for  the  restoration  of  many  of  her   ancient 
monuments,  and  the  construction  of  many  of  her  public 
buildings  and  streets.      With  the  cross  planted  on  its 
summit,  this  noble  monument  was  long  the  first  object 
which  met  the  traveller's  eye  as  he  entered  Rome  from 
the  north  by  the  old   Flaminian  way.      Brought  to  com- 


memorate the  overthrow  of  the  land  from  whence  it 
came,  it  has  witnessed  the  overthrow  of  the  conquerors 
in  turn  ;  and  now  re-erected  in  the  modern  capital,  it 
will  endure  when  its  glory  too  has  passed  away.  And 
out  of  the  ruins  of  the  city  of  the  Popes,  as  out  of  the 
ruins  of  the  city  of  the  Caesars,  some  future  architect 
will  dig  it  up  to  grace  the  triumph  of  a  brighter  and 
freer  resuscitation  of  the  Eternal  City  than  the  world 
has  yet  seen. 

The  association  of  fountains  at  its  base  with  this 
obelisk  seems  at  first  sight  as  incongruous  as  the 
crowning  of  its  apex  with  a  metal  cross,  for  the  Christian 
emblem  can  never  alter  the  nature  of  the  pagan  monu- 
ment There  is  no  natural  harmony  in  the  association, 
for  there  are  no  fountains  or  streams  of  running  water  in 
the  desert.  The  obelisk  belongs  essentially  to  the  dry 
and  parched  east;  the  fountain  is  the  birth  of  the 
happier  west,  bright  with  the  sparkle  and  musical  with 
the  sound  of  many  waters.  The  obelisk  relieves  the 
monotony  of  immeasurable  plains  over  which  a  sky  of 
serene  unstained  blue  arches  itself  in  infinite  altitude, 
the  image  of  eternal  purity,  and  the  sun  rises  day  after 
day  with  the  same  unsullied  brilliance,  and  sets  with  the 
same  unmitigable  glory.  The  fountain,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  the  child  of  lands  whose  mountains  kiss  the  clouds 
and  gleam  with  the  purity  of  everlasting  snows,  and 
where  each  day  brings  out  new  beauties,  and  each 
season  reveals  a  fresh  and  ever-varying  charm.  But 
although  there  is  no  geographical  reason  why  these  two 
objects  should  be  associated,  there  is  a  poetical  fitness. 
The  obelisk  is  the  symbol  of  the  perpetual  past,  holding 
in  its  changeless  unity,  as  on  its  carved  sides,  the 
memories  of  former  ages;  the  fountain  is  the  symbol 
of  the  perpetual  present,  ever  changing,  ever  new.  The 
one  speaks  to  us  of  a  petrified  old  age ;  the  other  of  an 
immortal  youth.  And  thus  it  is  in  life,  each  passing 
moment  flowing  on  with  all  its  changes  beside  the  stern, 
hard,  enduring  monument  of  the  irrevocable  past  on  which 


2CX) 


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CHAP. 


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THE  EGYPTIAN  OBELISKS 


201 


what  is  written  is  changelessly  written.  How  different 
too  are  the  bright  sparkling  fountains  that  leap  with  ever- 
varying  beauty  at  the  foot  of  the  Flaminian  obelisk  now, 
from  the  dull,  sleepy  monotonous  river  that,  like  a  Lethe 
flood,  flowed  past  it  in  the  old  days  at  Heliopolis  !  Are 
they  not  both  symbolical  of  the  new  and  the  old  world, 
of  the  Christian  faith,  with  its  progressive  thought  and 
varied  expanding  life,  and  the  stagnant  pagan  creed, 
which  impressed  the  soul  with  the  sense  of  human  help- 
lessness in  the  face  of  an  unchangeable  iron  order  alike 
of  nature  and  of  society  ? 

Another  of  the  great  obelisks  of  Rome  is  that  which 
stands  on  Monte  Citorio,  in  front  of  the  present 
Parliament  House.  It  was  brought  to  Rome  by 
Augustus,  who  dedicated  it  anew  to  the  sun,  and  placed 
it  as  the  gnomon  of  a  meridian  in  the  midst  of  the 
('ampus  Martins.  Originally  it  had  been  erected  at 
Heliopolis  in  honour  of  Psammeticus  L,  who  reigned 
about  seven  hundred  years  before  Christ.  This  monarch 
lived  during  a  time  when  the  national  religion  had 
become  corrupted,  and  the  whole  land  had  come  under 
the  influence  of  Greek  thought  and  Greek  customs. 
But  the  obelisk  which  he  erected  is  worthy  of  the  best 
period  of  Egyptian  art.  It  is  universally  admired  for 
the  remarkable  beauty  of  its  hieroglyphics.  The  anony- 
mous pilgrim  of  Einsiedlen  mentions  that  this  obelisk 
was  still  erect  when  he  visited  Rome  about  the  beginning 
of  the  ninth  century.  It  seems,  however,  to  have  fallen 
and  to  have  been  broken  in  pieces,  nearly  three  hundred 
years  later,  during  the  terrible  conflagration  caused  by 
the  Norman  troops  of  Robert  Guiscard.  Several  frag- 
ments of  it  were  dug  up,  one  after  another,  during  the 
sixteenth  century.  The  principal  part  of  the  shaft  was 
discovered  in  1748,  among  the  ruins  beneath  the  choir 
of  the  Church  of  San  Lorenzo  in  Lucina.  These 
portions  were  damaged  in  such  a  way  as  to  show  clearly 
the  action  of  fire,  proving  that  the  obelisk  had  been 
destroyed  in  the  great  fire  of  1084.      Pope  Pius  VI. 


gathered  together  the  fragments,  and  with  the  aid  of 
granite  pieces  taken  from  the  ruined  column  of  Anto« 
ninus  Pius,  which  stood  in  the  neighbourhood,  he  formed 
of  these  a  whole  shaft,  which  represents,  as  nearly  as 
possible,  the  original  obelisk.  It  is  seventy-two  feet 
high,  and  is  surmounted  by  a  globe  and  a  small  pyramid 
of  bronze,  which,  along  with  its  pedestal,  increases  its 
height  to  one  hundred  and  thirty-four  feet.  A  portion 
of  the  lines  of  the  celebrated  sun-dial,  whose  gnomon  it 
formed,  was  brought  to  light  under  the  sacristy  of  San 
Lorenzo  in  Lucina  in  1463. 

All  the  other  obelisks  in  Rome  belong  to  compara- 
tively recent  periods,  to  the  decadence  of  Egypt  None 
of  them  are  of  any  great  significance  to  the  student  of 
archaeology.  Several  of  them  were  executed  in  Egypt 
by  order  of  the  Roman  emperors,  and  are  therefore  not 
genuine  but  imitation  obelisks.  Of  this  kind  may  be 
mentioned  the  Esquiline  and  Quirinal  obelisks,  which 
were  brought  to  Rome  by  the  emperor  Claudius,  and 
placed  in  the  old  Egyptian  manner,  one  on  each  side  of 
the  entrance  to  the  great  mausoleum  of  Augustus  in  the 
Campus  Martins.  They  are  both  destitute  of  hiero- 
glyphics, and  are  broken  into  several  pieces.  One  now 
stands  on  Monte  Cavallo,  in  front  of  the  great  Quirinal 
Palace,  betwixt  the  two  well-known  gigantic  groups  of 
men  and  horses,  statues  of  Greek  origin,  supposed  to  be 
those  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  executed  by  Pheidias  and 
Praxiteles;  and  the  other  in  the  large  open  space  in 
front  of  the  great  Basilica  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore. 
Another  of  these  bastard  obelisks  occupies  a  command- 
ing position  at  the  top  of  the  Spanish  Stairs,  in  front  of 
the  Church  of  Trinita  dei  Monti.  It  stood  originally  on 
the  spina  of  the  circus  of  Sallust,  in  his  gardens,  and  is 
covered  with  hieroglyphics  of  the  rudest  workmanship, 
which  sufficiently  proclaim  their  origin,  as  a  Roman 
forgery  probably  of  the  period  of  the  Antonine  emperors. 
In  the  midst  of  the  public  gardens,  on  the  Pincian  Hill, 
there  is  another  Roman  obelisk  about  thirty  feet  high. 


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203 


excavated  from   the  quarries  of  Syene,  and  set  up  by 
Hadrian  originally  at  Antinopolis  in  Egypt  in  front  of  a 
temple  dedicated  to  the  deified  Antinous,  the  lamented 
favourite  of  the  emperor.     It  was  afterwards  transferred 
to  the  imperial  villa  at  Tivoli,  near  Rome,  and  subse- 
quently to  the  grounds  of  the  Church  of  Santa  Croce  in 
Gerusalemme,  from  whence  it  was  finally  taken  to  its 
present  site.     This  obelisk  has  a  special  interest  because 
it  commemorates  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  touching 
examples  of  self-sacrifice  which  the  annals  of  paganism 
afford.      We   are   apt   to  judge   of  Antinous   from    the 
languid   beauty   of  the   statue    of  him   in   the    Roman 
galleries,  as  simply  the  pampered  sycophant  of  a  court. 
But  behind  his  sensual  beauty  and  softness  there  was 
an  unselfish  devotion  which  the  caresses  of  royalty  and 
the  favours  of  fortune  could  not  spoil.     When  the  oracle 
declared  that  the  happiness  of  Hadrian,  who  was  afflicted 
with  a  profound  melancholy,  could  only  be  secured  by 
the  sacrifice  of  what  was  most  dear  to  him,  Antinous 
went  at  once  and  drowned  himself  in  the  Nile,  and  thus 
gave   his   life   for   his   imperial   friend,   who,    instead   of 
being  made  better  by  the  sacrifice,  was  left  altogether 
inconsolable.       The   magnificent   city   founded    to   per- 
petuate his  memory  is  now  a  heap  of  ruined  mounds, 
and  the  obelisk  that  bore  his  name  in  Egypt  now  stands 
far  away  in  Rome  ;  but  time  cannot  quench  the  glow  of 
sympathy  that  kindles  in  the  heart,  of  every  one  who 
remembers  his  story  of  noble  self-sacrificing  love. 

There  are  three  or  four  obelisks  that  mark  the 
introduction  of  the  Egyptian  worship  of  Isis  into  the 
imperial  city  of  the  later  emperors.  At  one  time  every- 
thing Egyptian  was  fashionable  in  Rome,  and  the 
goddess  of  Egypt  was  domesticated  in  the  Roman 
Pantheon,  and  temples  in  her  honour  were  erected  in 
several  parts  of  the  city  and  throughout  the  empire. 
Obelisks,  f^ishioned  in  Egypt  by  command  of  the  Romans, 
were  often  placed  in  front  of  the  temples.  But  these 
spurious  obelisks  have  little  dignity  or  significance,  and 


i 


•] 


suffer  wofully  when  brought  into  comparison  with  speci- 
mens of  the  genuine  work  of  old  Egypt.  The  largest 
and  most  imposing  of  these  monuments  of  the  new  faith 
of  the  city  is  the  one  that  now  stands  in  the  Piazza 
Navona,  formerly  called  the  Pamphilian  Obelisk,  in 
honour  of  the  family  name  of  Pope  Innocent  X.,  who 
placed  it  there.  It  is  forty  feet  high,  of  red  granite,  broken 
into  five  pieces,  and  covered  with  hieroglyphics,  the 
whole  style  and  execution  of  which  are  so  inferior  that 
Winkelman  long  ago,  although  he  knew  nothing  of  their 
import,  detected  the  fact  of  the  obelisk  being  a  mere 
imitation.  It  w^as  cut  and  engraved  at  Syene  by  order 
of  the  emperor  Domitian,  who  designed  it  to  adorn  his 
villa  on  the  Lake  of  Albano.  From  thence  it  was 
removed  by  the  usurper  Maxentius  to  the  circus  on  the 
Appian  Way,  founded  by  him,  and  named  after  his  son 
Romulus.  It  is  now  on  the  site  of  the  old  Circus 
Agonalis,  whose  form  and  boundaries  are  marked  out  by 
the  houses  of  the  Piazza  Navona.  Surmounted  by  the 
Pope's  device  of  a  dove  with  an  olive  branch,  a  vain 
substitute  of  heraldry  for  sacred  symbolism,  and  standing 
on  an  artificial  rock-work  about  forty  feet  high,  com- 
posed of  figures  of  Tritons  and  nymphs,  disporting  them- 
selves amid  plashing  fountains  and  marble  foliage,  the 
whole  subject  is  incongruous  and  utterly  opposed  to  the 
simplicity  and  majesty  of  the  ancient  monuments. 

Near  the  Pantheon  there  is  a  pair  of  obelisks  which 
were  brought  from  the  East,  and  stood  together  before 
the  temple  of  Isis  and  Serapis,  which  is  supposed  to 
have  been  situated  on  the  site  of  the  Dominican  Church 
of  Santa  Maria  Sopra  Minerva.  They  were  found  when 
digging  the  foundations  of  the  church  in  1667,  along 
with  an  altar  of  Isis,  now  in  the  Capitoline  Museum. 
One  of  these  obelisks  was  erected  by  Clement  XI.  in 
171 1,  in  front  of  the  Pantheon,  in  the  midst  of  the 
fountain  of  the  Piazza.  Its  height  is  only  about  seventeen 
feet,  and  the  hieroglyphics  on  it  indicate  that  it  was  con- 
structed by  Psammeticus  II.,  the  supposed  Hophra  of 


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205 


Hebrew  history.  This  same  monarch  also  constructed 
its  twin-fellow  which  now  stands  in  the  Piazza  Minerva 
in  the  near  neighbourhood.  The  celebrated  sculptor 
Bernini,  when  re-erecting  it  at  the  command  of  Pope 
Alexander  VII.  in  1660,  had  the  exceedingly  bad  taste 
to  balance  it  on  the  back  of  a  marble  elei)hant,  the  work 
of  his  pupil  Fcrrata ;  on  account  of  which  absurd  incon- 
gruity Bernini  received  from  the  satirical  Roman  popu- 
lace the  nickname  of  "  The  Elephant."  Only  one  obelisk 
in  Rome  was  not  restored  or  re-erected  by  any  Pope,  viz. 
that  which  stands  in  the  beautiful  grounds  of  the  Villa 
Mattei  in  the  Coelian  Hill.  It  was  found  near  the 
Capitol  on  the  site  of  an  ancient  temple  of  Isis,  and  was 
presented  by  the  magistrates  to  the  owner  of  the  villa,  a 
great  collector  of  antiquities.  It  is  said  that  when  it 
was  raised  in  1563,  on  its  red  granite  pedestal,  the 
mason  who  superintended  the  work  incautiously  rested 
his  hand  on  the  block,  when  the  shaft  suddenly  slid 
down  and  crushed  it,  the  bones  of  the  imprisoned  mem- 
ber being  still  held  between  the  two  stones. 

The  foregoing  were  the  last  obelisks  erected  in  Rome 
by  the  emperors.  After  them  no  more  were  constructed 
either  in  the  imperial  city  or  in  their  native  land  of 
Egypt.  The  language  inscribed  upon  them  had  come 
to  be  superseded  by  the  universal  use  of  the  Greek 
tongue  ;  there  was  no  use  therefore  in  making  monu- 
ments for  the  reception  of  hieroglyphic  records  which 
nobody  could  understand  or  interpret.  The  sudden 
craze  for  the  Egyptian  idolatry  passed  away  as  suddenly 
as  it  sprang  up,  and  Christianity  established  itself  as  the 
religion  of  the  civilised  world.  The  temples  in  Egypt 
and  Rome  were  closed,  the  altars  overthrown,  and  the 
objects  connected  with  the  material  symbolism  of  pagan- 
ism were  destroyed,  and  objects  connected  with  the 
spiritual  symbolism  of  Christianity  set  up  in  their  place. 
And  thus  the  obelisk,  the  oldest  of  all  religious  symbols, 
which  was  constructed  at  the  very  dawn  of  human  exist- 
ence, to  mark  the  worship  of  the  material  luminary,  fell 


into  disuse  and  obhvion,  when  "the  Sun  of  Righteous- 
ness "  rose  above  the  horizon  of  the  world,  with  healing 
in  His  wings,  dispelling  all  the  mists  and  delusions  of 
error.     The   art  of  constructing   obelisks   followed   the 
usual  stages  in  the  history  of  all  human  art.     Its  best 
period  was  that  which  indicated  "the  greatest  faith ;  its 
worst  that  which  marked  the  decay  of  faith.     The  oldest 
specimens  are  invariably  the  most  perfect  and  beautiful ; 
the  most  recent  exhibit  too  marked  signs  of  the  decrepi- 
tude of  skill  that  had  come  over  their  makers.     Between 
the  oldest  specimens  and  their  surroundings  there  was 
a  harmony  and  an  appropriateness  which    solemnised 
the  scene  and  excited   feelings  of  adoration  and  awe. 
Between   the  latest    specimens  and  their  surroundings 
there  was  an  incongruity  which  proved  them  to  be  aliens 
and  strangers  on  the  scene,  and  was  fatal  to  all  reverence ; 
an  incongruity  which  the  modern   Romans   have   only 
intensified  by  raising  them  on  pedestals  of  most  uncon- 
genial forms,  and  crowning  them  with  hideous  masses  of 
metal,  representing  the  insignia  of  popes  or  other  objects 
equally  unsuitable.     We   see   in   the   oldest  obelisks  a 
wonderful  ease  and  an  exquisite  finish  of  execution,  a 
maturity  of  thought  and  skill  which  none  of  the  later 
obelisks   reached,  and   which    indicate   the    high -water 
mark  of  man's  achievement  in  that  line.     There  is  also 
"a  bloom  of  youth  and  of  the  earth's  morning"  about  them 
which  is  quite  indescribable,  and  which  doubtless  came 
to  them  because  of  the  power  and  reality  of  faith.    They 
were  the  fresh  natural  originals  in  which  a  deep  primitive 
spontaneous  adoration  that  dominated  the  whole  nature 
of  man  expressed  itself;  while  the  specimens  that  were 
executed  afterwards  were  slavish  imitations,  expressing 
a  worship  and  a  creed  which  had  become   fixed  and 

formal. 

One  of  the  most  valuable  results  of  the  expedition  ot 
the  great  Napoleon  to  Egypt,  ostensibly  for  scientific 
and  antiquarian  purposes,  but  really  for  military  glory, 
was  the  acquisition  of  the   Rosetta   stone   now  in  the 


206 


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207 


British  Museum— which  afforded  the  key  to  the  decipher- 
ment of  the  Egyptian  hieroglyphics— and  of  the  obehsk 
of  Luxor  which  now  adorns  the  noble  Place  de  la  Con- 
cord in  Paris.     The  history  of  the  engineering  difficulties 
overcome  in  bringing  this  obelisk  to  France  is  extremely 
mteresting.      Indeed, 'the  story  of  the  transportation  of 
the  obelisks  from  their  native  home,  from  time  to  time, 
to  other  lands,  is  no  less  romantic  and  worthy  of  study 
than  the  artistic,  religious,  or  antiquarian  phases  of  the 
subject.     It  forms  a  special  literature  of  its  own  to  which 
Commander  Gorringe  of  the  United  States  Navy,  in  his 
elaborate  and   magnificent  work  on  Egyptian  obelisks, 
has    done   the   amplest   justice.       It    cost    upwards   of 
^  100,000  to  bring  the  Luxor  Obelisk  to  Paris,  owing 
to  the  inexperience  of  the  engineers  and  the  imperfection 
of  their  method.     But  it  was  worthy  of  this  vast  expendi- 
ture of  toil  and  money ;  for  standing  in  an  open  circus 
unimpeded    by  narrow  streets,   and    unspoiled    by  the 
tawdry  ornaments  which  disfigure  the  Roman  obelisks, 
It  adds  to  the  magnificent   modern   city  the  charm  of 
antique  majesty.      It  stands  seventy-six  feet  and  a  half 
m  height,  with  its  apex  left  rough  and  unfinished,  desti- 
tute of  the  gilded  cap  which  formerly  completed  and 
protected   it.       Each   of  its    four    sides   contains   three 
vertical  lines  of  well-executed  hieroglyphics,  which  show 
that  it  was  raised  in  honour  of  Rameses  II.,  to  adorn 
the  stupendous   temple  of  Luxor  at  Thebes  which  he 
constructed.     When  it  lay  on  its  original  site,  previous 
to   Its   being    transported,   it   was   found   to   have   been 
cracked  at  the  time  of  its  first  erection,  and  repaired  by 
means  of  two  dove -tailed  wedges  of  wood  which  had 
perished  long  ago.     But  this  defect  is  not  now  noticeable. 
The  companion  of  this  obelisk  is  still  standing  at  Luxor, 
and  has  already  been  described.      Both  of  them  show  a 
peculiarity  in  their  lines,  which  could  only  be  noticed 
effectually  when  the  pair  stood  together.    This  peculiarity 
IS  a  convexity,  or  efitasis,  as  it  is  called,  on  the  inner 
foces.      Even  to  the  untrained  eye  its  sides  seem  not  of 


\ 


I 


equal  dimensions ;  and  actual  measurement  shows  the 
irregularity  more  clearly.  This  is  said,  however,  to  be 
exceptional  to  the  general  rule,  and  to  be  foreign  to  the 
design  of  an  obelisk  in  the  best  period  of  the  Pharaonic 
art.  Still,  several  magnificent  specimens,  such  as  the 
Luxor  and  Flaminian  obelisks,  exhibit  it.  And  they 
are  an  illustration  of  what  was  a  marked  characteristic 
of  all  classic  architecture,  which  shows  a  slight  curvature 
or  entasis  in  its  long  lines. 

It  was  early  found  out  that  mathematical  exactness 
and  beauty  were  not  the  same.  By  making  its  two  sides 
geometrically  equal,  the  living  expression  of  the  most 
beautiful  marble  statue  is  destroyed,  and  it  becomes 
simply  a  piece  of  architecture.  It  is  well  known  that 
the  two  sides  of  the  human  face  are  not  precisely  the 
same  ;  the  irregularity  of  the  one  modifies  the  irregularity 
of  the  other,  and  thus  a  higher  symmetry  and  harmony 
is  the  result.  The  two  sides  of  the  leaf  of  the  begonia 
are  unequal,  and  if  folded  together  will  not  correspond. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  leaf  of  the  elm  and  the  lime. 
But  when  the  mass  of  the  foliage  is  seen  together,  this 
irregularity  gives  an  added  charm  to  the  whole.  Every 
object  in  nature  has  some  imperfection,  which  indicates 
that  it  has  a  relation  to  some  other  object,  and  is  but  a 
part  of  a  greater  whole.  The  intentional  irregularity  of 
the  windows  in  the  Doge's  Palace  at  Venice  enhances 
the  effect  of  the  marvellous  fa9ade.  By  comparing  the 
Parthenon  at  Athens,  with  its  curves  and  inclinations, 
with  the  Madeleine  at  Paris,  we  see  how  far  short  the 
copy  comes  of  the  original  in  beauty  and  expressiveness, 
because  of  the  exact  formality  of  its  right  angles.  The 
ancient  Egyptians  understood  this  well ;  and  in  their 
architecture  they  sought  to  rise  to  a  higher  symmetry 
through  irregularity ;  and  we  can  see  in  their  frequent 
departure  from  upright  and  parallel  lines  in  the  con- 
struction of  their  temples,  an  effort  to  escape  from  formal 
exactness,  and  a  longing  for  the  nobler  unity  which  is 
realised  to  the   full  in  the   rich  variety  of  the  Gothic. 


208 


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We  may  be  sure  that  "every  attempt  in  art  that  seeks  a 
theoretical  completeness,  in  so  doing  sinks  from  the 
natural  into  the  artificial,  from  the  living  and  the  divine 
into  the  mechanical  and  commonplace."  The  Egyptian 
obelisk  is  thus  but  a  type  of  a  great  law  of  nature.  In 
this  simplest  and  most  primitive  specimen  of  architecture 
we  have  an  illustration  of  the  principle  which  gives  its 
expressiveness  to  the  human  face,  beauty  to  the  flowers 
of  the  field,  and  grandeur  to  the  highest  triumphs  of 
human  art. 

The  obelisks   that  remain   to   be   described  are  the 
two  which  to  us  are  the  most  interesting;  the  pair  of 
"  Cleopatra's  Needles  "  which  so  long  stood  side  by  side 
at  Alexandria,  and  are  now  separated   by  tlie  Atlantic 
Ocean;    one  standing  on  the  Thames  Embankment  in 
London,   and   the   other  in   Central   Park,   New    York. 
They  were  both  set  up  in  front  of  the  great  temple  of 
the   Sun  at   Heliopolis,   about   fifteen   centuries   before 
Christ,  by  Thothmes  III.,  and  engraved  by  Rameses  II., 
the  two  mightiest  of  the  kings  of  Egypt.     After  standing 
on  their  original  site  for  fourteen  centuries,  witnessing 
the  rise  and  fall  of  many  native  dynasties,  and  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  Greek  dominion  under  the  Ptolemies,  they 
were,  when  Egypt  became  a  province  of  Imperial  Rome, 
transferred   by   Caesar  Augustus   to  Alexandria.     There 
they  adorned  the  Caesareum   or  palace  of  the  Caesars, 
which  stood  by  the  side  of  the  harbour,  was  surrounded 
with    a   sacred   grove,   and    was   the    greatest   building 
in  the  city.      What  Thebes  and  Heliopolis  were  in  the 
time  of  the  Pharaohs,  Alexandria  became  in  the  time  of 
the  Ptolemies.      And  though,  being  a  parasitical  growth, 
it  could  not  originate  works  of  genius,  like  its  ancient 
prototypes,  it  could  appropriate  those  which  Heliopolis 
and  Thebes  had  created.     The  tragic  death  of  Cleopatra, 
the  last  of  the  dynasty  of  the  Ptolemies,  had  taken  place 
seven  years  before  the  setting  up  of  these  obelisks  at 
Alexandria  ;  so  that  she  had  in  reality  nothing  to  do  with 
them  personally.       For  about  fifteen  centuries  the  two 


VI 


THE  EGYPTIAN  OBELISKS 


209 


obelisks  stood  in  their  new  position  before  the  Caesareum. 
They  saw  the  gradual  overthrow,  by  time's  resistless  hand, 
of  the  magnificent  palace  which  they  adorned ;  and  they 
themselves   felt  the  slow  undermining  of  the  sea  as  it 
encroached  upon  the  land,  until  at  last  one  of  them  fell 
to  the  ground  about  three  hundred  years  ago,  and  got 
partially  covered  over  with  sand,  leaving  the   other  to 
stand  alone.     Then  came  the  French  invasion  of  Egypt, 
and    the    victories   of  Nelson    and    Abercromby,   when 
Mahomet  Ali,  the  ruler  of  the  land,  offered  the  prostrate 
obelisk  to  the  British  nation  as  a  token  of  gratitude. 
The  offer,  however,   was   not   taken   advantage   of,   for 
various  reasons.     At  last  the  patriotism  and  enterprise  of 
a  private  individual,  the  late  Sir  Erasmus  Wilson,  came 
to  the  rescue,  when  the  stone  was  about  to  be  broken  up 
into  building  material  by  the  proprietor  of  the  ground  on 
which  it  lay.    An  iron  water-tight  cylinder  was  constructed 
for  its  transport,  in  which,  with  much  toil,  the  obelisk 
was  encased  and   floated.     It  was  taken  in  tow  by  a 
steam-tug,  which  encountered  a  fearful  storm  in  the  Bay 
of  Biscay.     This  led  to  the  abandonment  of  the  pontoon 
cylinder,  which  floated  about  for  three  days,  and  was  at 
last  picked  up  by  a  passing  steamer,  and  towed  to  the 
coast  of  Spain  ;  from  whence  it  was  brought  to  England, 
and  set  up  where  it  now  stands  on  the  Thames  Embank- 
ment.    Its  transport  cost  altogether  about  ;£"i 3,000,  and 
was  a  work  of  great  anxiety  and  difficulty.      Standing 
seventy  feet  high  on  its  present  site,  it  forms  one  of  the 
noblest  and  most  appropriate  monuments  of  the  greatest 
city  in   the   world;    awakening   the   curiosity   of  every 
passer-by  regarding  the  mysteries   revealed  in  its  enig- 
matical sculptures. 

The  companion  obelisk  which  had  been  left  standing 
at  Alexandria,  after  having  suffered  much  from  neglect^ 
in  the  midst  of  its  mean  and  filthy  surroundings  was 
presented  to  the  American  Government  by  the  Khedive 
of  Egypt.  But  that  Government  acted  in  the  same 
supine  spirit  in  which  our  own  had  acted;    and  it  was 

p 


2IO 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


left  to  the  ability  of  Captain  Corringe  as  engineer,  and 
to  the  liberality  of  the  millionaire  Vanderbilt,  who'  paid 
the  expenses  incurred,  amounting  to  ;^2o,ooo,  to  bring 
the  obelisk  in  the  hold  of  a  chartered  steamer  across  the 
Atlantic,  and  set  it  up  in  the  midst  of  New  York  city. 
And  if  the  one  obelisk  is  a  remarkable  sight  in  London, 
the  other  is  a  still  more  remarkable  sight  in  New  York! 
There,  amid  the  latest  inventions  of  the  West,  surrounded 
by  the  most  recent  civilisation  of  the  world,  rises  up 
serenely,  unchanged  to  heaven,  the  earliest  monument  of 
the  East,  surrounded  by  the  most  ancient  civilisation  of 
the  world.  "  Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its 
way ; "  and  as  the  old  obelisk  of  Hehopolis  witnessed 
the  ending  of  the  four  first  dramas  of  human  history,  so 
shall  it  close  the  fifth  and  last.  The  sun  in  the  East 
rose  over  its  birth ;  the  sun  in  the  West  shall  set  over 
its  death. 

It  is  possible  that  when  all  the  stores  of  coal  and 
other  fuel  which  form  the  source  of  the  mechanical  power 
and  commercial  greatness  of  northern  and  western  nations 
shall  have  been  exhausted,  a  method  of  directly  utilising 
solar  radiation  may  be  discovered.  And  if  so,  then  the 
seat  of  empire  will  be  transferred  to  parts  of  the  earth 
that  are  now  burnt  up  by  the  intense  heat  of  the  sun,  but 
which  then  will  be  the  most  valuable  of  all  possessions. 
The  vast  solar  radiance  now  wasted  on  the  furnace-like 
shores  of  the  Red  Sea  will  be  stored  up  as  a  source  of 
mechanical  power.  The  commerce  of  the  West  will 
once  more  return  to  the  East  where  it  began ;  and  the 
whole  region  will  be  repeopled  with  the  life  that  swarmed 
there  in  the  best  days  of  old  Egypt.  But  under  that 
new  civilisation  there  will  be  no  return  of  the  old  rehgion 
of  the  obelisks ;  for  men  will  no  longer  worship  the  sun 
as  a  god,  but  will  use  him  for  the  common  purposes  of 
life,  as  a  slave. 

After  having  thus  passed  in  review  so  many  noble 
obelisks,  a  mere  tithe  of  what  once  existed,  the  conviction 
is  deepened  in  our  minds  that  no  nation  had  ever  devoted 


VI 


THE  EGYPTIAN  OBELISKS 


211 


SO  much  time,  treasure,  and  skill  to  the  service  of  religion 
as  the  Egyptian.    While  the  Jews  had  only  one  tabernacle 
and  one  temple,  every  city  in  Egypt— and  no  country  had 
so  many  great  cities — had  its  magnificent  temple  and  its 
hosts  of  obelisks.     The  spoils  of  the  whole  world  were 
devoted  to  their  construction  ;  a  third  of  the  produce  of 
the  whole  land  of  Egypt  was  spent  in  their  maintenance. 
The  daily  life  of  the  people  was  moulded  entirely  upon  the 
religion  of  these  temples  and  obelisks  ;  their  art  and  their 
literature  were  inspired  by  it.     It  organised  their  society  ; 
it  built  up  their  empire;  and  it  was  the  salt  which  for  more 
than  three  thousand  years  conserved  a  civilisation  which 
has  been  the  marvel  and  the  mystery  of  every  succeeding 
age.     Surely  the  Light  which  lighteth   every  man  that 
Cometh  into  the  world,  shone  on  those  who  were  thus 
fervently    stretching    the  tendrils   of   their    souls   to   its 
dawning  in  the  East,  who  raised  these  obelisks  as  symbols 
of  the  glorious  and  beneficent  sunlight  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER    VII 

THE    PAINTED    TOMB    AT    VEII 

Rome  after  a  season  becomes  oppressive.  Your  capacity 
of  enjoyment  is  exhausted.  The  atmosphere  of  excite- 
ment in  which  you  live,  owing  to  the  number,  variety, 
and  transcendent  interest  of  the  sights  that  have  to  be 
seen,  wears  out  the  nervous  system,  and  you  have  an 
ardent  desire  for  a  Httle  respite  and  change  of  scene. 
I  remember  that  after  the  first  month  I  had  a  deep 
longing  to  get  away  into  the  heart  of  an  old  wood,  or 
into  a  lonely  glen  among  the  mountains,  where  I  should 
see  no  trace  of  man's  handiwork,  and  recover  the  tone 
of  my  spirit  amid  the  wildness  of  nature.  For  this 
inevitable  reaction  of  sight-seeing  in  the  city,  a  remedy 
may  be  found  by  retiring  for  a  day  or  two  to  some  one 
or  other  of  the  numerous  beautiful  scenes  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood. There  is  no  city  in  the  world  more  favour- 
ably situated  for  this  purpose  than  Rome.  Some  of  the 
most  charming  excursions  may  be  made  from  it  as  a 
centre,  starting  in  the  morning  and  returning  at  night. 
Every  tourist  who  stays  but  a  fortnight  in  the  city  makes 
a  point  of  seeing  the  idyllic  waterfalls  of  Tivoh,  the  ex- 
tensive ruins  of  Hadrian's  Villa,  the  picturesque  olive- 
clad  slopes  of  Frascati  and  Tusculum,  and  the  lovely 
environs  of  Albano  on  the  edge  of  its  richly-wooded  lake. 
But  there  are  spots  that  are  less  known  at  no  greater  dis- 
tance, which  yet  do  not  yield  in  beauty  or  interest  to 
these  familiar  resorts.     Chief  among  these  is  Veii,  whose 


CHAP.  VII         THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


213 


very  name  has  in  it  a  far-off  old-world  sound.  When 
the  Campagna  has  quickened  under  the  breath  ot  the 
Italian  spring  into  a  tender  greenness,  and  is  starred 
with  orchids  and  sweet-scented  narcissuses,  I  know 
nothing  more  pleasant  than  a  visit  to  this  renowned 
spot. 

Veii  was  the  greatest  city  of  the  Etruscan  confederacy. 
When  Rome  was  in  its  infancy  it  was  in  the  height  of  its 
grandeur.  After  a  ten  years'  siege  it  was  captured  by 
Camillus ;  and  so  stately  were  its  buildings,  so  beautiful 
was  the  scenery  around  it,  and  so  strong  its  natural 
defences,  that  it  was  seriously  proposed  to  abandon  Rome 
and  transfer  the  population  to  it,  and  thus  save  the  re- 
building of  the  houses  and  temples  that  had  been  de- 
stroyed during  the  invasion  of  the  Gauls.  It  was  only 
by  a  small  majority  that  this  project  was  set  aside.  Veii 
never  recovered  from  its  overthrow.  In  vain  the  Romans 
attempted  to  make  it  one  of  their  own  cities  by  colonising 
it.  Many  families  established  themselves  there,  but  they 
were  afterwards  recalled  by  a  decree  of  the  senate,  which 
made  it  an  offence  punishable  with  death  for  any  Roman 
to  remain  at  Veii  beyond  a  prescribed  period.  By  degrees 
it  dwindled  away,  until  in  the  days  of  Propertius  its  site 
was  converted  into  pastures ;  and  the  shepherd  roamed 
over  it  with  his  flocks,  unconscious  that  one  of  the  most 
famous  cities  of  Italy  once  stood  on  the  spot.  So  long 
ago  as  the  reign  of  the  emperor  Hadrian  its  very  locality 
was  forgotten,  and  its  former  existence  regarded  by  many 
with  incredulity  as  a  myth  of  early  times.  It  was  left  to 
the  enlightened  antiquarian  skill  of  our  own  times,  so 
fruitful  in  similar  discoveries  and  resuscitations,  to  find 
out  among  the  fastnesses  of  the  wilderness  around  Rome 
its  true  position.  And  although  all  the  difficult  problems 
connected  with  its  citadel  and  the  circuit  of  its  walls  have 
not  yet  been  solved,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  city 
stood  in  the  very  place  which  modern  archaeologists  have 
determined.  This  place  is  a  little  village  called  Isola 
Farnese,  about  eleven  miles  north-west  of  Rome.     The 


214 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


way  that  leads  to  it  branches  off  by  a  side  path  for  about 
three  miles  from  the  old  diligence  road  between  Florence 
and  Rome  at  La  Storta — the  last  post  station  where 
horses  were  changed  about  eight  miles  from  the  city. 
It  is  situated  amid  ground  so  broken  into  heights  and 
hollows  that  you  see  no  indications  of  it  until  you  come 
abruptly  upon  it,  hid  in  a  fold  of  the  undulating  Campagna. 
And  the  loneliness  of  the  district  and  of  all  the  paths 
leading  to  it  is  hardly  relieved  by  the  appearance  of  the 
village  itself. 

I  shall  not  soon  forget  my  visit  to  this  romantic  spot, 
and  the  delightful  day  I  spent  there  with  a  congenial 
friend.  We  left  Rome  in  an  open  one-horse  carriage 
early  one  morning  about  the  end  of  April.  Passing  out 
at  the  Porta  del  Popolo,  we  quickly  traversed  the  squalid 
suburb  and  crossed  the  Ponte  Molle — the  famous  old 
Milvian  Bridge.  We  proceeded  as  far  as  the  Via  Cassia 
on  the  old  Flaminian  Way.  At  the  junction  of  these 
roads  the  villa  and  gardens  of  Ovid  were  situated ;  but 
their  site  is  now  occupied  by  a  humble  osteria  or  wayside 
tavern.  The  road  passes  over  an  undulating  country 
entirely  uncultivated,  diversified  here  and  there  with 
copses  and  thickets  of  wild  figs  intermixed  with  hawthorn, 
rose-bushes,  and  broom.  A  few  ilexes  and  stone-pines 
arched  their  evergreen  foliage  over  the  road  ;  and  the 
succulent  milky  stems  of  the  wild  fig-trees  were  covered 
with  the  small  green  fruit,  while  the  downy  leaves  were 
just  beginning  to  peep  from  their  sheaths.  It  was  one 
of  those  quiet  gray  days  that  give  a  mystic  tone  to  a 
landscape.  The  cloudy  sky  was  in  harmony  with  the 
dim  Campagna,  that  looked  under  the  sunless  smoky 
light  unutterably  sad  and  forlorn.  Wreaths  of  mist 
lingered  in  the  hollows  like  the  shadowy  forms  of  the 
past;  the  lark  was  silent  in  the  sky;  and  on  the  desolate 
bluffs  and  headlands,  where  once  stood  populous  cities, 
were  a  few  hoary  tombs  whose  very  names  had  perished 
ages  ago.  But  inexpressibly  sad  as  the  landscape  looked 
it  was  relieved  by  the  grand  background  of  the  Sabine 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


215 


range  capped  with  snow.  The  village  of  La  Storta,  that 
flourished  in  the  old  posting  days,  had  fallen  into  decay 
when  the  railway  diverted  the  traftic  from  it ;  and  its 
inn,  with  a  rude  model  of  St.  Peter's  carved  in  wood 
projecting  above  its  door,  was  silent  and  deserted.  Pass- 
ing down  a  narrow  glen,  fringed  with  wood  for  three  miles 
from  this  point,  we  came  in  sight  of  the  village  of  Isola. 
Its  situation  is  romantic,  perched  on  the  summit  of  a 
steep  cliff,  with  deep  richly-wooded  ravines  around  it, 
and  long  swelling  downs  rising  beyond.  It  is  surrounded 
by  two  streams  which  unite  and  fall  along  with  the 
Formello  into  the  river  called  La  Valca,  which  has  been 
identified  with  the  fatal  Cremera  that  was  dyed  red  with 
the  blood  of  the  three  hundred  Fabii. 

The  rock  of  Isola  is  most  interesting  to  the  geologist, 
consisting  of  large  fragments  of  black  pumice  cemented 
together  by  volcanic  ashes  deposited  under  water.  It 
is  literally  a  huge  heap  of  cinders  thrown  out  by  the 
rapidly  intermittent  action  of  some  neighbouring  volcano, 
probably  the  crater  of  Baccano,  or  that  which  is  now 
filled  with  the  blue  waters  of  Lake  Bracciano.  The 
whole  mass  is  very  friable,  and  in  every  direction  the  soft 
rock  is  hollowed  out  into  sepulchral  caves.  By  many 
this  isolated  rock  is  considered  the  arx  or  citadel  of  Veii ; 
but  the  existence  of  so  many  sepulchral  caves  in  it  is, 
as  Mr.  Dennis  says,  conclusive  of  the  fact  that  it  was  the 
Necropolis  of  the  ancient  city,  which  must  therefore, 
according  to  Etruscan  and  Roman  usage  regarding  the 
interment  of  the  dead,  have  been  outside  the  walls.  The 
tombs  have  all  been  rifled  and  destroyed,  and  many  of 
the  sepulchral  caves  have  been  turned  to  the  basest  uses 
for  stalling  goats  and  cattle.  An  air  of  profound  melan- 
choly breathes  around  the  whole  spot.  It  seems  to  be 
more  connected  with  the  dead  than  with  the  living  world. 
And  the  hamlet  which  now  occupies  the  commanding 
site  is  of  the  most  wretched  description.  All  its  houses, 
which  date  from  the  fifteenth  century,  are  ruinous,  and 
are  among  the  worst  in  Italy ;  and  the  baronial  castle 


r 


\ 


2l6 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


which  crowns  the  highest  point, — built  nearly  a  thousand 
years  ago,  tlie  scene  of  many  a  conflict  between  the 
Colonnas  and  the  Orsinis,  and  captured  on  one  occasion 
after  a  twelve  days'  siege  by  Ccesar  Borgia, — has  been 
converted  into  a  barn.  The  inhabitants  of  the  village 
do  not  exceed  a  hundred  in  number,  and  present  a 
haggard  and  sallow  appearance — the  effect  of  the  dreadful 
malaria  which  haunts  the  spot.  It  is  strange  to  contrast 
this  blighted  and  fever-stricken  aspect  of  the  place  with 
the  description  of  Dionysius,  who  praised  its  air  as  in  his 
time  exceedingly  pure  and  healthy,  and  its  territory  as 
smiling  and  fruitful.  In  the  little  square  of  the  village 
are  several  fragments  of  marble  and  other  relics  of  Roman 
domination ;  and  the  church,  about  four  or  five  hundred 
years  old,  dedicated  to  St.  Pancrazio,  is  in  a  state  of 
great  decay.  The  walls  are  damp  and  mouldy,  and  all 
the  pictures  and  ornaments  are  of  the  rudest  description, 
with  the  exception  of  a  faded  fresco  of  the  coronation 
of  the  Virgin,  which  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  art  of  the 
fifteenth  century.  The  service  of  the  church  is  supplied 
by  some  distant  priest  or  friar  in  orders. 

We  left  our  conveyance  in  the  piazza,  and  took  our 
lunch  in  one  of  the  houses.  We  brought  our  provisions 
with  us  from  Rome,  but  we  got  a  coarse  but  palatable 
wine  from  the  people,  and  a  rude  but  clean  room  in 
which  to  enjoy  our  repast.  This  inn — if  it  may  be  called 
so — had  at  one  time  a  very  evil  reputation.  But  nothing 
could  be  more  simple-hearted  than  the  landlord  and  his 
wife,  with  their  group  of  timid  children  who  clung 
to  their  mother's  skirts  in  dread  of  the  strangers.  They 
told  us  that  the  poverty  of  the  place  was  deplorable. 
Nearly  all  the  people  were  laid  down  during  the  heats  of 
summer  with  fever ;  and  they  were  so  poor  that  they 
could  not  afford  to  keep  a  doctor.  Many  deaths  occurred, 
and  the  survivors,  emaciated  by  the  disease,  were  left  to 
drag  on  a  weary  existence  embittered  by  numerous 
privations.  At  a  distance  the  village  on  its  lofty  rock, 
surrounded  by  its  richly-wooded  ravines,  looked  like  a 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


217 


picture  of  Arcadia ;   but  near  at  hand  the  sad   reality 
dispelled  the  idyllic  dream. 

Taking  with  us  from  Isola  a  guide,  originally  a  big 
burly  man,  but  now  a  sad  victim  to  malaria,  we  set  out 
to  visit  the  site  of  the  ancient  city  and  the  few  relics 
which  survive.  It  takes  about  four  hours  to  complete  the 
circuit  of  the  walls ;  but  there  are  four  objects  of  special 
interest,  the  Arx,  the  Columbarium,  the  Ponte  Sodo, 
and  the  Painted  Tomb,  which  may  be  visited  in  less  than 
three.  The  extent  of  the  city  is  surprising  to  those  who 
have  been  in  the  habit  of  thinking  that  all  the  ancient 
towns  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Rome  were  mere  villages. 
Dionysius  says  that  it  was  equal  in  size  to  Athens.  Veii 
was  indeed  fully  larger,  and  was  about  the  dimensions  of 
the  city  of  Rome,  included  within  the  walls  of  Servius 
Tullius.  It  occupied  the  whole  extent  of  the  platform 
on  which  it  was  situated ;  and  as  the  area  was  bounded 
on  every  side  by  deep  ravines,  its  size  was  thus  absolutely 
circumscribed.  Built  for  security  and  not  for  the  comfort 
and  progress  of  its  inhabitants,  its  confined  and  inaccess- 
ible situation  would  have  unfitted  it  to  become  the  capital 
of  a  great  nation,  as  was  at  one  time  proposed.  Pass- 
ing down  a  richly-wooded  glen  by  a  path  overhanging 
a  stream,  we  came  to  a  molino  or  polenta  mill,  most 
romantically  situated.  Here  a  fine  cascade,  about 
eighty  feet  high,  plunges  over  the  volcanic  rock  into 
a  deep  gulley  overshadowed  by  bushy  ilexes.  The 
scenery  is  very  picturesque,  and  differs  widely  from 
that  of  the  rest  of  the  Campagna.  In  its  profusion  of 
broom  and  hawthorn  bushes,  whose  golden  and  snowy 
blossoms  contrasted  beautifully  with  the  dark  hues  of 
the  evergreen  oaks,  and  in  the  snowy  gleam  of  its  falling 
waters,  and  the  hoary  gray  of  its  lichen-clad  cliffs,  it 
presented  features  of  resemblance  to  Scottish  scenery. 
It  had  indeed  a  peculiar  home  look  about  it  which 
produced  a  very  pleasing  impression  upon  our  minds. 
Crossing  the  stream  above  the  cascade  by  stepping-stones, 
between  which  the  water  rushed  with  a  strong  current,  we 


2l8 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TO^IB  AT  VEII 


219 


entered  ihe  wide  down  upon  which  Veii  stood.  No 
one  would  have  supposed  that  this  was  the  site  of  one 
of  the  most  important  ancient  cities,  which  held  at  bay 
for  ten  long  years  the  Roman  army,  and  yielded  at  last 
to  stratagem  and  not  to  force.  Not  a  vestige  of  a  ruin 
could  be  seen.  In  the  heart  of  the  city  the  grass  was 
growing  in  all  the  soft  green  transparency  of  spring,  and 
a  few  fields  of  corn  were  marked  out  and  showed  the 
tender  braird  above  the  soil  The  relics  of  the  walls  that 
crowned  the  cliffs  have  almost  entirely  disappeared.  No 
Etruscan  site  has  so  few  remains ;  and  yet  its  interest  is 
intensified  by  the  extreme  desolation.  It  is  more  sug- 
gestive to  the  imagination  because  of  the  paucity  of  its 
objects  to  appeal  to  the  eye.  Legend  and  history  haunt 
the  spot  with  nothing  to  distract  the  mind  or  dispel  its 
musing  melancholy.  All  trace  of  human  passion  has 
disappeared,  and  only  the  eternal  calm  of  nature  broods 
over  the  spot ;  the  calm  that  was  before  man  came  upon 
the  scene,  and  that  shall  be  after  all  his  labour  is  over. 

On  a  part  of  these  downs  overgrown  with  briars  was 
situated  the  Roman  Municipium,  a  colony  founded  after 
the  subj  ugation  of  Veii.  It  did  not  cover  more  than  a  third 
of  the  area  of  the  ancient  city.  Several  excavations  were 
made  here,  which  resulted  in  the  discovery,  among  other 
interesting  relics  of  the  imperial  period,  of  the  colossal 
heads  of  Augustus  and  Tiberius  and  the  mutilated  statue 
of  Germanicus  now  in  the  Vatican  Gallery.  On  this  spot 
were  also  found  the  twelve  Ionic  columns  of  white  marble 
which  now  form  the  portico  of  the  post-office  in  the  Piazza 
Colonna  at  Rome,  and  also  a  few  of  the  pillars  which 
adorn  the  magnificent  Basilica  of  St.  Paul's  on  the  Ostian 
Road.  No  one  looking  at  these  grand  columns,  so  stain- 
less in  hue  and  so  perfect  in  form,  would  have  supposed 
that  they  had  formed  part  of  the  Roman  Forum  of  Veii 
more  than  two  thousand  years  ago.  Those  in  front  of 
the  post-office  look  newer  than  the  rest  of  the  building, 
which  is  not  more  than  sixty  years  old.  They  owed 
their   perfect    preservation    doubtless  to   the    fact   that 


i 


, 


they  were  buried  deep  under  the  dry  volcanic  soil  for 
most  of  the  intervening  period.  It  seems  strange  to  think 
of  these  ancient  columns,  that  looked  down  upon  the  legal 
transactions  of  Roman  Veii,  now  standing  in  one  of  the 
busiest  squares  of  modern  Rome,  associated  with  one  of 
the  most  characteristic  and  important  of  our  modern 
institutions,  of  which  ancient  Rome  had  not  even  the  germ. 
Passing  through  a  beautiful  copse  wood,  where  cycla- 
mens grew  in  lavish  profusion,  forming  little  rosy  clusters 
about  the  oak-stools  and  diffusing  a  faint  spicy  smell 
through  the  warm  air,  we  came  out  at  one  of  the  gates  of 
the  city  into  open  ground.  This  gate  is  simply  a  gap  in 
a  shapeless  mound,  with  traces  of  an  ancient  roadway 
passing  through  it  and  fragments  of  walls  on  either  side. 
Where  the  stones  can  be  seen  projecting  through  the  turf 
embankment  they  are  smaller  than  usual  in  Etruscan  cities. 
Sir  William  Gell  found  hereabouts  a  portion  of  the  wall 
composed  of  enormous  blocks  of  tufa — three  or  four 
yards  long  and  more  than  five  feet  in  height — based  upon 
three  courses  of  thin  bricks  three  feet  in  length,  that 
rested  upon  the  naked  rock.  Such  a  mode  of  wall 
construction  has  no  resemblance  to  anything  remaining 
in  Rome  or  in  any  Etruscan  city.  It  indicates  a  still 
higher  antiquity ;  while  the  brick  foundations  remind  us 
of  the  fame  which  the  Etruscans  and  particularly  the 
people  of  Veii  had  acquired  on  account  of  their  skill  in 
works  of  terra  cotta.  The  famous  Quadriga  or  brick 
chariot  which  adorned  the  pediment  of  the  great  temple  of 
Jupiter  on  the  Capitol  at  Rome  was  made  at  Veii,  and 
was  a  remarkable  proof  of  the  superiority  of  its  people  in 
this  species  of  art.  Indeed  the  name  of  Veii  is  supposed 
to  have  been  derived  from  its  skill  in  the  manufacture  of 
terra  cotta  chariots.  The  old  gateway  through  which  we 
passed  out  of  the  wood  was  probably  the  principal  entrance 
into  the  city,  and  the  one  over  which  Tolumnius  King  of 
Veii  appeared,  standing  on  the  wall,  during  the  famous 
siege  when  he  was  challenged  to  mortal  combat  by 
Cornelius  Cossus,  as  graphically  described  by  Livy. 


220 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Beneath  this  gate  there  is  a  remarkable  tunnel  called 
the  Ponte  Sodo,  bored  in  the  volcanic  rock  for  the  pass- 
age of  the  river.  It  is  not,  however,  visible  from  this 
point.  You  require  to  descend  the  steep  banks  of  the 
river  to  see  it ;  and  a  very  extraordinary  excavation  it  is, 
two  hundred  and  forty  feet  long,  sixteen  feet  wide,  and 
twenty  feet  high.  It  was  doubtless  made  to  prevent 
the  evil  effects  of  winter  floods  by  the  inhabitants  of 
Veii,  who  had  considerable  skill  in  such  engineering 
works.  The  river  sometimes  fills  the  tunnel  to  the  very 
roof,  leaving  behind  trunks  and  branches  of  trees  firmly 
wedged  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock  in  the  inside.  It  was  ex- 
tremely interesting  to  stand  on  this  spot  and  see  before  me 
this  wonderful  Etruscan  work,  and  to  lave  my  hands  in 
the  waters  of  the  Formello,  which,  under  the  classical  name 
of  the  Cremera,  was  prominently  associated  with  early 
Roman  history.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  lovelier 
dimple  in  the  fair  face  of  mother  earth  than  the  valley 
through  which  the  Formello  flows.  Precipitous  cliffs 
rose  from  the  bed  of  the  river  opposite  to  me,  enriched 
with  all  the  hues  that  volcanic  rock  assumes  under  the 
influences  of  the  weather  and  the  garniture  of  moss  and 
lichen.  A  perfect  tangle  of  vegetation  crowned  their 
tops  and  fringed  their  sides ;  the  dark  unchanging 
verdure  of  the  evergreen  oak  and  ivy  contrasting 
beautifully  with  the  tender  autumn-like  tints  in  which 
the  varied  spring  foliage  of  the  brushwood  appeared. 
Bright  flowers  and  gay  blossoms  grew  in  every  crevice 
and  nook.  The  shallow  river  flowed  at  my  feet  through 
ruts  of  dark  volcanic  sand,  and  amid  masses  of  rock 
fallen  from  the  cliffs,  and  stones  whose  artificial  appear- 
ance showed  that  they  had  formed  part  of  the  ramparts 
that  once  ran  round  the  whole  circuit  of  the  heights. 
The  sunshine  sparkled  on  the  gray-green  waters,  and 
followed  them  in  bright  coruscations  for  a  short  distance 
into  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel,  the  other  end  of  which, 
diminished  by  the  distance,  opened  into  the  daylight 
like  the  eye-piece  of  an  inverted  telescope.      I  found  in 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


221 


the  bed  of  the  river  fragments  of  marble  and  porphyry, 
cut  and  polished,  that  had  doubtless  come  from  the 
pavement  of  some  palace  or  temple,  and  attested  the 
truth  of  the  report  that  has  come  down  to  us,  that  the 
buildings  of  Veii  were  stately  and  magnificent.  To  me 
there  is  something  peculiarly  impressive  in  the  presence 
of  a  stream  in  a  scene  of  vanished  human  greatness.  Its 
eternal  sameness  contrasts  with  the  momentous  changes 
that  have  taken  place  ;  its  motion  with  the  death  around ; 
its  sunny  sparkle  with  the  gloom ;  while  its  murmur 
seems  the  very  requiem  of  the  past.  In  this  giant 
sepulchre,  into  which,  like  the  Gulf  of  Curtius  in  the 
Forum,  all  the  greatness  of  Etruscan  and  Roman  Veii 
had  gone  down,  the  abundance  of  life  was  most  remark- 
able. The  vegetation  sprang  up  wnth  a  rank  luxuriance 
unknown  in  northern  latitudes ;  lizards  darted  through 
the  long  grass ;  one  snake  of  considerable  length  and 
girth  uncoiled  itself  before  me  and  crawled  leisurely 
away  ;  and  the  air,  as  bright  and  warm  as  it  is  in  July 
with  us,  was  murmurous  with  the  hum  of  insects  that 
danced  in  the  April  sunshine. 

Beyond  the  Ponte  Sodo  the  precipices  disappear  and 
the  ground  slopes  down  gently  to  the  edge  of  the  river. 
Here  the  valley  of  the  Formello  opens  up — a  quiet  green 
pastoral  spot  rising  on  the  right  hand  into  bare  swelling 
downs,  without  a  tree,  or  a  bush,  or  a  rock  to  diversify 
their  surface.  On  the  sloping  banks  of  the  river  the 
rock  has  been  cut  into  a  number  of  basins  filled  with 
water,  where  Sir  William  Gell  supposes  that  the  nymphs 
of  Veii,  like  those  of  Troy,  "washed  their  white  garments 
in  the  days  of  peace ; "  but  they  w^re  in  all  likelihood 
only  holes  caused  by  the  quarrying  of  the  blocks  of 
stone  used  in  the  construction  of  the  walls  and  buildings 
of  the  city.  The  slopes  of  this  valley  seem  to  have 
formed  the  principal  Necropolis  of  Veii.  Numerous 
tombs  were  discovered  in  it ;  but  after  having  been 
rifled  of  their  contents  they  were  filled  up  again,  and  all 
traces  of  them  have  disappeared.     Only  one  sepulchre 


222 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


now  remains  open  in  the  Necropolis,  hah  way  up  the 
slope  of  a  mound  called  the  Pog(^to  Reale.      It  is  com- 
monly known  as  "  The  Painted  Tomb,"  or  La  Groita 
Campana — after  its  discoverer,  the  Marchese  Campana 
of  Rome — who  got  permission  forty-five  years  ago  from 
the  Queen  of  Sardinia,  to  whom  the  property  then  be- 
longed, to  dig  in  this  locality  for  jewels  and  other  relics 
of  antiquity.      Instead  of  closing  the  tomb,  as  w^as  done 
in  the  other  cases,   this  accomplished  antiquarian,  with 
the  good  taste  for  which  he  was  distinguished,  left  it  in 
the  exact  condition  in  which  he  had  found  it,  so  that  it 
might  be  an  object  of  interest  to  future  visitors.     Ascend- 
ing the  slope,  we  entered  a  long  narrow  passage  about 
six  feet  wide  and  about  fourteen  feet  deep  cut  through 
the  tufa  rock.      This  was  the  original  entrance  to  the 
tomb  ;  and  the  discoverer  had  cleared  it  out  by  removing 
the  earth  that  had  accumulated  in  the  course  of  ages. 
A  solitary  crouching  lion,  carved  in  a  species  of  volcanic 
stone,  guarded  the  entrance  of  the  passage.      Its  com- 
panion   had    been    removed    some    distance,    and    lay 
neglected  on  the  slope  of  the  hill.      The  sculpture  is 
exceedingly  uncouth  and  primitive.      At  the  inner  end 
of  the  passage  a  couple  of  similar  lions  crouch,  one  on 
each  side  of  the  door  of  the  tomb.      They  were  placed 
there  in  all  likelihood  as  symbols  of  avenging  wrath  to 
inspire  fear,  and  thus  prevent  the  desecration  of  the  dead. 
Originally  the  tomb  was  closed  by  a  great  slab  of  volcanic 
stone  :  but  this  having  been  broken  to  pieces  and  carried 
away  to  build  the  first  sheepfold  or  the  nearest  peasant's 
hut,  it  has  been  replaced  by  an  iron  gate.     The  walls 
around  were  damp  and  covered  with  moss  and  weeds, 
and  the  bars  of  the  gate  were  rusty.      Our  guide  applied 
the  key  he  had  brought  with  him,  and  the  gate  opened 
with  a  creaking  sound.     Lighting  a  candle,  he  preceded 
us    into    the    tomb.       I    cannot    describe    the    strange 
mixture   ot   feelings   which   took  possession  of   me, — 
wonder,  curiosity,  and  awe.      This  was  my  first  visit  to 
an  Etruscan  tomb.     In  Rome  I  had  been  familiar  with 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


22 


the  monuments  of  a  remote  past ;  I  had  gazed  with 
interest  upon  objects  over  which  twenty  centuries  had 
passed.  But  here  I  was  to  behold  one  of  the  mysterious 
relics  of  the  world's  childhood.  I  had  previously  read 
with  deep  interest  the  graphic  account  of  this  tomb, 
which  Mr.  Dennis  gives  in  his  Cities  and  Cemeteries  of 
Etrjiria,  and  was  therefore  prepared  in  large  measure  for 
what  I  was  about  to  see. 

I  found  myself  when  I  entered  in  a  gloomy  chamber 
hewn  out  of  a  brown  arenaceous  clay.  The  floor  was  a 
loose  mud,  somewhat  slippery ;  and  on  it  I  noticed  a 
number  of  vases,  large  and  small,  and  of  various  forms. 
They  were  not  like  the  exquisite  painted  vases  which 
we  are  accustomed  to  associate  with  the  name  of 
Etruscan,  but  of  the  simplest  and  most  archaic  shapes, 
formed  out  of  the  coarsest  clay.  Some  of  them  had  a 
curious  s(iuat  appearance,  with  rude  figures  painted  on 
them ;  while  others  of  them  were  about  three  feet  high, 
of  dark-brown  earthenware,  and  were  ornamented  with 
some  simple  device  in  neutral  tints  or  in  very  low  relief. 
They  were  empty  now ;  but  when  found  they  contained 
ashes  and  fragments  of  calcined  bones.  Just  within  the 
door  there  were  two  stone  benches,  on  each  of  which, 
when  the  tomb  was  opened,  was  stretched  a  skeleton, 
which  rapidly  crumbled  under  the  pressure  of  the  air 
into  a  cloud  of  dust.  That  on  the  left  was  supposed  to 
have  been  a  female ;  and  her  companion  on  the  right 
had  doubtless  been  a  warrior,  judging  from  the  bronze 
helmet  and  breastplate,  both  much  corroded,  that  were 
left  lying  on  the  bench.  He  had  evidently  come  by  a 
violent  death,  for  at  the  back  of  the  helmet  was  an  ugly 
hole,  whose  ragged  side  was  outwards,  showing  that  the 
fierce  thrust  of  the  spear  had  crashed  through  the  face, 
and  protruded  beyond  the  casque.  The  combination  of 
cinerary  urns  containing  ashes,  and  of  stone  couches  on 
which  dead  bodies  were  extended  in  the  same  tomb,  is 
curious,  showing  that  both  modes  of  sepulture  were 
practised  at  this  period.     The  skeletons  found  entire 


224 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


were  evidently  those  of  the  master  and  mistress  of  the 
household,  persons  of  consideration  ;  and  the  ashes  in 
the  jars  were  probably  the  remains  of  the  servants  and 
dependants.  On  the  benches  beside  the  skeletons  were 
a  bronze  laver  and  mirror,  a  simple  candlestick,  and  a 
brazier  used  for  burning  perfumes.  The  vases  were  ex- 
ceedingly interesting,  as  the  first  rude  attempts  of  the 
Etruscans  in  an  art  in  which  afterwards  they  attained  to 
such  marvellous  perfection,  and  the  only  relics  now 
remaining  of  the  fictile  statuary  for  which  Veil  was  so 
celebrated. 

But  my  interest  in  these  objects  was  speedily  trans- 
ferred to  a  far  more  wonderful  sight,  which  the  candle 
of  the  guide  disclosed  to  me.  On  the  inner  wall,  which 
divided  the  tomb  into  two  chambers,  and  on  the  right 
and  left  of  the  door  leading  from  the  one  to  the  other, 
was  a  most  extraordinary  fresco.  Seen  in  the  dim  light 
of  the  candle  passing  over  the  different  parts,  it  had  a 
singularly  weird  and  grotesque  appearance.  The  colours 
were  as  fresh  as  if  they  had  been  laid  on  yesterday ;  and 
the  thought  at  first  flashed  across  my  mind  that  I  was 
gazing  not  upon  a  painting  which  had  been  sealed  up 
for  nearly  thirty  centuries,  but  upon  the  rude  attempts 
at  art  of  some  modern  shepherd  or  rustic  belonging  to 
the  village  of  Isola,  who  sought  thus  to  amuse  his 
leisure  moments.  But  such  a  thought  was  dismissed  at 
once  as  absurd.  No  one  after  a  few  moments'  inspec- 
tion could  doubt  the  genuineness  of  the  painting.  It  is 
difficult  to  describe  it,  for  it  is  altogether  unlike  anything 
to  be  seen  elsewhere  in  Egyptian  or  Assyrian,  in  Greek 
or  Roman  tombs.  On  the  right  side  of  the  door  the 
upper  half  of  the  wall  was  panelled  off  by  a  band  of 
colour,  and  represented  one  scene  or  picture.  In  the 
centre  was  a  large  horse,  that  reminded  me  of  a  child's 
wooden  toy-horse,  such  as  one  sees  at  a  country  fair. 
Its  legs  were  unnaturally  long  and  thin  ;  and  the  slender- 
ness  of  its  barrel  was  utterly  disproportioned  to  the 
breadth  of  its   chest.      It  was  coloured  in  the    most 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


225 


■ 


curious  fashion:  the  head,  hind-quarters,  and  near-leg 
being  black ;  the  tail  and  mane  and  off-legs  yellow ;  and 
the  rest  of  the  body  red,  with  round  yellow  spots.  It 
was  led  by  a  tall  groom  ;  a  diminutive  youth  was  mounted 
upon  its  back  ;  and  a  proud,  dignified-looking  personage, 
having  a  double-headed  axe  or  hammer  on  his  shoulder, 
strode  in  front.  These  human  figures  were  all  naked, 
and  painted  of  a  deep-red  colour.  In  the  same  picture 
I  noticed  two  strange-looking  nondescript  animals,  very 
rudely  drawn,  and  party-coloured  like  the  horse.  One 
probably  represented  a  cat  without  a  tail,  like  the  Manx 
breed,  half-lying  upon  the  back  of  the  horse,  and  laying 
its  paw  on  the  shoulder  of  the  youth  mounted  before 
it ;  and  the  other  looked  like  a  dog,  with  open  mouth, 
apparently  barking  with  all  his  might,  running  among 
the  feet  of  the  horse.  Interspersed  with  these  figures 
were  most  uncouth  drawings  of  flowers,  growing  up  from 
the  ground,  and  forming  fantastic  wreaths  round  the 
picture,    all   party-coloured   in    the    same   way  as   the 

animals. 

This  extraordinary  fresco  seemed  like  the  scene 
which  presented  itself  to  the  apostle,  when  one  of  the 
seals  of  the  Apocalyptic  book  was  opened.  I  wished 
that  I  had  beside  me  some  authoritative  interpreter  who 
could  read  for  me  "this  mystic  handwriting  on  the  wall." 
It  has  been  suggested  that  the  silent  scene  before  me 
represented  the  passage  of  a  soul  to  the  world  of  the 
dead.  The  lean  and  starved-looking  horse  symbolised 
death ;  and  its  red  and  yellow  spots  indicated  corruption. 
It  may  have  been  the  ghost  of  the  horse  that  was  burned 
with  the  body  of  his  dead  master ;  for  we  know  that  the 
tribes,  from  which  the  Etruscans  were  supposed  to  be 
descended,  if  not  the  Etruscans  themselves,  not  only 
burned  their  dead,  but  offered  along  with  them  the 
wives,  slaves,  horses,  and  other  property  of  the  dead 
upon  their  funeral  pyre.  The  horse  in  this  remarkable 
fresco  may  therefore  have  been  the  death-horse,  which 
is  well-known  in  Eastern  and  European  folklore.     The 

Q 


226 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


diminutive  figure  which  it  carried  on  its  back  was  the 
soul  of  the  dead  person  buried  in  this  tomb ;  and  its 
small  size  and  the  fact  of  its  being  on  horseback  might 
have  been  suggested  by  the  thought  of  the  long  way  it 
had  to  go,  and  its  last  appearance  to  the  mortal  eyes  that 
had  anxiously  watched  it  from  the  extreme  verge  of  this 
world  as  it  vanished  in  the  dim  distance  of  the  world 
beyond.  The  groom  that  led  the  horse  and  his  rider 
was  the  Thanatis  or  Fate  that  had  inflicted  the  death- 
blow; and  the  figure  with  the  hammer  was  probably 
intended  for  the  Mantus — the  Etruscan  Dispater — who 
led  the  way  to  another  state  of  existence.  The  deep- 
red  colour  of  the  human  figures  indicated  not  only  that 
they  belonged  to  the  male  sex,  but  also  that  they  were 
in  a  state  of  glorification.  This  is  further  confirmed  by 
the  flowers,  which  looked  like  those  of  the  lotus,  univers- 
ally regarded  amongst  the  ancients  as  symbols  of 
immortality.  It  is  difficult  to  say  what  part  the  domestic 
animals  were  meant  to  play  in  this  scene  of  apotheosis. 
Painted  with  the  same  hues  as  those  of  the  steed,  they 
were  doubtless  sacrificed  at  the  death  of  their  master,  in 
order  that  they  might  share  his  fortunes  and  accompany 
him  into  the  unseen  world ;  their  affection  for  him,  and 
the  reluctance  with  which  they  parted  from  him,  being 
indicated  by  the  cat  putting  its  paw  upon  his  shoulder 
as  if  to  pull  him  back,  and  the  dog  barking  furiously  at 
the  heels  of  the  horse.  But  all  this  is  merely  conjec- 
tural. And  yet  I  caught  such  a  glimpse  of  the  general 
significance  of  the  picture,  of  the  spirit  that  prompted  it, 
as  deeply  impressed  me.  It  seemed  as  if  my  own 
searching  dimly  with  a  candle  in  the  inside  of  a  dark 
sepulchral  cave  into  the  meaning  of  this  fresco  of  death 
was  emblematical  of  the  groping  of  the  ancient  Etruscans, 
by  such  feeble  light  of  nature  as  they  possessed,  in  the 
midst  of  the  profound,  terrible  darkness  of  death,  for  the 
great  truths  of  immortality.  They  had  not  heard  of  One 
who  alone  with  returning  footsteps  had  broken  the 
eternal  silence  of  the  tomb,  and  brought  the  hope  of 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


227 


immortal  life  to  the  sleeping  dead  around.  These 
Etruscan  sleepers  had  been  laid  to  rest  in  their  narrow 
cell  ages  before  the  Son  of  Man  had  rolled  away  the 
stone  from  the  door  of  the  sepulchre,  and  carried  cap- 
tivity captive  ;  but  He  whom  they  ignorantly  worshipped 
had  partially  lifted  the  veil  and  given  them  faint  glimpses 
of  the  things  unseen  and  eternal.  And  these  were 
doubtless  sufficient  to  redeem  their  life  from  its  vanity 
and  their  death  from  its  fear. 

Below  the  fresco  which  I  have  thus  minutely  described 
is  another  about  the  same  size,  representing  a  sphinx, 
with  a  nondescript  animal,  which  may  be  either  an  ass 
or  a  young  deer  standing  below  it,  and  a  panther  or 
leopard  sitting  behind  in  a  rampant  attitude,  with  one 
paw  on  the  haunch  of  the  sphinx,  and  the  other  on  the 
tail,  and  its  face  turned  towards  the  spectator.  The 
face  of  the  sphinx  is  painted  red.  The  figure  bears 
some  resemblance  to  the  Egyptian  type  of  that  chimera 
in  its  straight  black  hair  depending  behind,  and  its 
oblique  eyes ;  but  in  other  respects  it  diverges  widely. 
On  Eg>'ptian  monuments  the  sphinx  never  appears 
standing  as  in  this  fresco,  but  crouching  in  the  attitude 
of  reposeful  observation.  Its  form  also  was  always 
fuller  and  more  rounded  than  the  long-legged,  attenuated 
spectre  before  us,  and  it  was  invariably  wingless ;  whereas 
the  Etruscan  sphinx  had  short  wings  with  curling  points, 
spotted  and  barred  with  stripes  of  black,  red,  and 
yellow.  This  strange  mixture  of  the  human  and  the 
brutal  might  be  regarded  as  a  symbol  of  the  religious 
state  of  the  people.  We  see  in  it  higher  conceptions  of 
religion  struggling  out  of  lower.  In  the  recumbent 
wingless  sphinx  of  Egypt  we  see  anthropomorphic  ideas 
of  religion  emerging  out  of  the  gross  animal-worship  of 
more  primitive  times.  In  the  standing  and  winged 
Etruscan  sphinx  we  see  these  ideas  assuming  a  more 
predominant  form ;  while  in  the  Greek  mythology  the 
emancipation  of  the  human  from  the  brutal  was  complete, 
and  the  gods  appeared  wholly  in  the  likeness  of  men. 


228 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


On  the  wall  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  door  were 
two  other  frescoes,  somewhat  similar  in  general  appear- 
ance to  those  already  described.  On  the  upper  panel 
was  a  horse  with  a  boy  on  his  back,  and  a  panther  sittmg 
on  the  ground  behind  him ;  while  on  the  lower  panel 
there  was  a  huge  standing  panther  or  leopard,  with  his 
long  tongue  hanging  out  of  his  mouth,  and  a  couple  of 
dogs  beneath  him,  one  lifting  up  its  paw,  and  the  other 
trying  to  catch  the  protruded  tongue  of  the  panther.  All 
the  figures  in  the  four  frescoes  were  painted  in  the  same 
bizarre  style  of  red,  yellow,  and  black  characteristic  of 
the  first  fresco  described;  and  they  had  all  the  same 
Oriental  border  of  lotus  flowers.  They  had  evidently 
all  the  same  symbolic  import ;  for  the  sphinx  guarded 
the  gate  of  the  unseen  world,  and  leopards  or  panthers 
were  frequently  introduced  into  the  paintings  of  Etruscan 
tombs  as  guardians  of  the  dead. 

Passing  through  the  doorway  I  entered  an  inner  and 
smaller  chamber,  whose  only  decoration  was  six  small 
round  discs  on  the  opposite  wall,  each  about  fifteen  inches 
in  diameter,  painted  in  little  segments  of  various  colours, 
—black,  blue,  red,  yellow,  and  gray.     What  they  were 
meant  to  represent  no  one  has  satisfactorily  explained. 
Above  them  I  observed  a  number  of  rusty  nails  fixed  in 
the  wall,  and  traces  of  others  that  had  fallen  out  around 
the  doorway.     On  these  nails  were  originally  suspended 
various  articles   of  household   economy  or  of  personal 
ornament;    for   the    Etruscan    sepulchres    were    always 
furnished  with  such  things  as  the  tenants  took  delight  in 
when   living.     For  a   proof  of  this   nothing   could   be 
more  satisfactory  than  a  thorough  study  of  Inghirami's 
voluminous  work.     Indeed,  all   ancient  nations  buried 
their  dead   not  only  with    their  weapons  and  armour, 
but  also  with  their  most  precious  possessions ;   and  in 
proportion  to  the  rank  and  wealth  of  the  deceased  were 
the  number  and  value  of  the  offerings  deposited  with 
him  in  his  tomb.     We  are  amazed  at  the  variety  and 
preciousness    of  the    golden   ornaments  found    by   Dr. 


( 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


229 


Schliemann  in  the  tombs  at  Mycenae ;  and  every  Etrus- 
can cemetery  that    has   been  opened   has   yielded  an 
immense  number  of  most  precious  articles,  which  the 
devotion  of  the  survivors  sacrificed  to  the  manes  of  their 
departed  friends.      It  is  to  this  propensity  that  we  owe 
all  our  knowledge  of  this  mysterious  race.     But  the  fact, 
as  Mr.  Dennis  says,  that  the  nails  in  the  interior  of  this 
tomb  were  empty,  and  that  no  fragments  of  the  objects 
suspended  were  found  at  the  foot  of  the  wall,  indicated 
either  that  the  articles  had  decayed,  being  of  a  perishable 
nature,  or  that  they  had  been  carried  off  on  account  of 
their  superior  value.      This  last  is  the  more  probable 
supposition.     The  Marchese  Campana,  who  opened  the 
tomb,  was  late  in  the  field,  and  had  in  all  likelihood 
been  anticipated  by  some  previous  explorer.     The  work 
of  plundering  Etruscan  tombs  was  begun,  we  have  reason 
to  believe,  in  the  time  of  the  early  Romans,  who  were 
attracted,  not  merely  by  the  precious  metals  which  they 
contained,  but  also  by  the  reputation  of  their  vases,  which 
in  the  days  of  the  Empire  were  held  in  as  high  esteem 
as  now.     Many  tombs  have  doubtless  been  repeatedly 
searched.     The  very  architects  employed  in  their  con- 
struction, as  Signor  Avolta  conjectures,  may  have  pre- 
served the  secret  of  the  concealed  entrance,  and  used 
it  for  the  purpose  of  spoliation  afterwards.     Indeed,  an 
unviolated  tomb  is  a  very  rare  exception.     No  modern 
excavations  were  made  till  about  sixty  years  ago ;  and 
yet   during   that   short   interval  many  tombs   that  were 
opened  and  filled  up  again  have  been  forgotten;  and 
now  they  are  being  dug  afresh  by  persons  ignorant  of  this, 
who  spend  their  labour  only  to  be  disappointed.     There 
is  little  reason,  therefore,  to  believe   that  the   Painted 
Tomb  of  Veil  was  so  fortunate  as  to  escape  all  notice 
until  the  Marchese  Campana  had  discovered  it.    Former 
visitors  had  robbed  it  in  all  likelihood  of  any  objects  of 
intrinsic  value  it  may  have  contained,  and  left  only  the 
bronze  utensils  and  armour  and  the  rude  archaic  vases. 
On  the  roughly-hewn  roof  of  this  inner  chamber  of 


228 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


On  the  wall  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  door  were 
two  other  frescoes,  somewhat  similar  in  general  appear- 
ance to  those  already  described.  On  the  upper  panel 
was  a  horse  with  a  boy  on  his  back,  and  a  panther  sitting 
on  the  ground  behind  him ;  while  on  the  lower  panel 
there  was  a  huge  standing  panther  or  leopard,  with  his 
long  tongue  hanging  out  of  his  mouth,  and  a  couple  of 
dogs  beneath  him,  one  lifting  up  its  paw,  and  the  other 
trying  to  catch  the  protruded  tongue  of  the  panther.  All 
the  figures  in  the  four  frescoes  were  painted  in  the  same 
bizarre  style  of  red,  yellow,  and  black  characteristic  of 
the  first  fresco  described ;  and  they  had  all  the  same 
Oriental  border  of  lotus  flowers.  They  had  evidently 
all  the  same  symbolic  import ;  for  the  sphinx  guarded 
the  gate  of  the  unseen  world,  and  leopards  or  panthers 
were  frequently  introduced  into  the  paintings  of  Etruscan 
tombs  as  guardians  of  the  dead. 

Passing  through  the  doorway  I  entered  an  inner  and 
smaller  chamber,  whose  only  decoration  was  six  small 
round  discs  on  the  opposite  wall,  each  about  fifteen  inches 
in  diameter,  painted  in  little  segments  of  various  colours, 
— black,  blue,  red,  yellow,  and  gray.  What  they  were 
meant  to  represent  no  one  has  satisfactorily  explained. 
Above  them  I  observed  a  number  of  rusty  nails  fixed  in 
the  wall,  and  traces  of  others  that  had  fallen  out  around 
the  doorway.  On  these  nails  were  originally  suspended 
various  articles  of  household  economy  or  of  personal 
ornament ;  for  the  Etruscan  sepulchres  were  always 
furnished  with  such  things  as  the  tenants  took  delight  in 
when  living.  For  a  proof  of  this  nothing  could  be 
more  satisfactory  than  a  thorough  study  of  Inghirami's 
voluminous  work.  Indeed,  all  ancient  nations  buried 
their  dead  not  only  with  their  weapons  and  armour, 
but  also  with  their  most  precious  possessions ;  and  in 
proportion  to  the  rank  and  wealth  of  the  deceased  were 
the  number  and  value  of  the  offerings  deposited  with 
him  in  his  tomb.  We  are  amazed  at  the  variety  and 
preciousness    of  the    golden   ornaments  found    by   Dr. 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


^ 


229 


Schliemann  in  the  tombs  at  Mycenoe ;  and  every  Etrus- 
can cemetery  that  has  been  opened  has  yielded  an 
immense  number  of  most  precious  articles,  which  the 
devotion  of  the  survivors  sacrificed  to  the  manes  of  their 
departed  friends.  It  is  to  this  propensity  that  we  owe 
all  our  knowledge  of  this  mysterious  race.  But  the  fact, 
as  Mr.  Dennis  says,  that  the  nails  in  the  interior  of  this 
tomb  were  empty,  and  that  no  fragments  of  the  objects 
suspended  were  found  at  the  foot  of  the  wall,  indicated 
either  that  the  articles  had  decayed,  being  of  a  perishable 
nature,  or  that  they  had  been  carried  off  on  account  of 
their  superior  value.  This  last  is  the  more  probable 
supposition.  The  Marchese  Campana,  who  opened  the 
tomb,  was  late  in  the  field,  and  had  in  all  likelihood 
been  anticipated  by  some  previous  explorer.  The  work 
of  plundering  Etruscan  tombs  was  begun,  we  have  reason 
to  believe,  in  the  time  of  the  early  Romans,  who  were 
attracted,  not  merely  by  the  precious  metals  which  they 
contained,  but  also  by  the  reputation  of  their  vases,  which 
in  the  days  of  the  Empire  were  held  in  as  high  esteem 
as  now.  Many  tombs  have  doubtless  been  repeatedly 
searched.  The  very  architects  employed  in  their  con- 
struction, as  Signor  Avolta  conjectures,  may  have  pre- 
served the  secret  of  the  concealed  entrance,  and  used 
it  for  the  purpose  of  spoliation  afterwards.  Indeed,  an 
unviolated  tomb  is  a  very  rare  exception.  No  modern 
excavations  were  made  till  about  sixty  years  ago ;  and 
yet  during  that  short  interval  many  tombs  that  were 
opened  and  filled  up  again  have  been  forgotten;  and 
now  they  are  being  dug  afresh  by  persons  ignorant  of  this, 
who  spend  their  labour  only  to  be  disappointed.  There 
is  little  reason,  therefore,  to  believe  that  the  Painted 
Tomb  of  Veii  was  so  fortunate  as  to  escape  all  notice 
until  the  Marchese  Campana  had  discovered  it.  Former 
visitors  had  robbed  it  in  all  likelihood  of  any  objects  of 
intrinsic  value  it  may  have  contained,  and  left  only  the 
bronze  utensils  and  armour  and  the  rude  archaic  vases. 
On  the  roughly-hewn  roof  of  this  inner  chamber  of 


It 


230 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


the  tomb  were  carved  in  high  relief  two  beams  in  imita- 
tion of  the  rafters  of  a  house ;  and  round  the  walls  at 
the  foot  ran  a  low  ledge  formed  out  of  the  rock,  like  a 
family  couch,  on  which  stood  three  very  curious  boxes 
of  earthenware,  about  a  foot  and  a  half  long  and  a  foot 
high,  covered  with  a  projecting  lid  on  which  was  moulded 
a  human  head.     These  were  sepulchral  urns  of  a  most 
primitive  form,  intermediate  between  the  so-called  hut- 
urns  found  under  the  lava  in  the  Necropolis  of  Alba 
Longa,  and  supposed  to  represent  the  tents  in  which  the 
p:truscans  lived  at  the  time  of  their  arrival  in  Italy,  and 
the  round  vases  of  a  later  period.     On  the  same  ledge 
were  several  vases  painted  in  bands  of  red  and  yellow, 
with  a  row  of  uncouth  animals  executed  in  relief  upon 
the  rim.    The  form  and  contents  of  this  chamber  afforded 
striking  proof  of  the  fact  that  the  Etruscan  tombs  were 
imitations  of  the  homes  of  the  living.      These  tombs 
were   constructed   upon   two   types:   one   rising   in   the 
form  of  a  tumulus  or  conical  mound  above  the  ground 
when  the  situation  was  a  level  table-land,  and  the  other 
consisting  of  one  or^two  chambers  excavated  out  of  the 
rock  when    the  tomb  was   situated   on   the   precipitous 
face  of  a   hill.      Dr.    Isaac  Taylor,   in    his  admirable 
Etruscan  Researches^  says  that  the  former  type  recalled 
the  tent,  and  the  latter  the  cave,  which  were  the  original 
habitations   of  men.      The  ancestors  of  the  Etruscans 
are  supposed   by  him   to  have  been  a  nomadic  race, 
wandering  over  the  steppes  of  Asia,  and  to  have  dwelt 
either  in  caves  or  tents.     At  the  present  day  the  yourts 
or  permanent  houses  in  Siberia  and  Tartary  are  modelled 
on  the  plan  of  both  kinds  of  habitation — the  upper  part 
being  above  the  ground,  representing  the  tent ;  and  the 
lower  part  being  subterranean,  representing  the  cave. 
And  so  the  descendants  of  this  Asiatic  horde,  having 
migrated   at  a  remote    period    to   Italy,   preserved  the 
burial  traditions  of  their  remote  ancestors,  and  formed 
their  tombs  after  the  model  of  the  tent  or  cave,  accord- 
ing as  they  were  constructed  on  the  level  plateau  or  in 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


231 


the  rocky  brow  of  a  hill.  In  further  illustration  of  this 
theory  he  says  that  in  olden  times  when  a  member  of 
the  Tartar  tribe  died,  the  tent  in  which  he  breathed  his 
last,  with  all  its  contents  intact,  was  converted  into  a 
tomb  by  simply  covering  it  with  a  conical  mound  of 
earth  or  stones,  in  order  to  preserve  it  from  the  ravages 
of  wolves  and  other  beasts  of  prey.  Even  the  row  of 
stones  that  surrounded  the  outside  of  the  tent  and  kept 
down  the  skins  that  covered  it  from  being  blown  away 
by  the  storms  of  the  steppe,  was  introduced  into  the 
structure  of  the  tomb,  and  continued  to  surround  the 
base  of  the  funeral  mound.  He  finds  traces  of  this 
circle  of  stones  in  the  podmm  or  low  wall  of  masonry 
which  encircled  every  Etruscan  tumulus  or  outside  tomb, 
and  a  remarkable  example  in  the  mounds  of  the  Horatii 
and  Curiatii  on  the  Appian  Way  at  Rome. 

This  theory,  however,  it  is  only  fair  to  state,  is  dis- 
puted by  other  writers,  who  assert  that  there  was  no  in- 
tentional imitation  of  tents  in  Etruscan  tombs;  for  if 
this  had  been  the  design  there  would  have  been  a 
correspondence  between  the  conical  outside  and  the 
conical  interior,  and  no  Etruscan  tomb  has  been  found 
with  a  bell-shaped  chamber.  The  tent-like  tumulus,  say 
they,  was  but  the  mere  rude  mound  of  earth  heaped  over 
the  dead  in  an  uncultured  age ;  and  the  mound  would 
be  made  higher  and  larger  according  to  the  dignity  of  the 
deceased ;  and  the  podium  or  row  of  stones  around  its 
foot  was  simply  the  retaining  wall  necessary  to  give  it 
stability  and  shape.  The  tomb  at  Veii  had  a  narrow 
entrance-passage ;  and  we  find  this  a  marked  feature  in 
all  Etruscan  tombs,  which  are  approached  by  a  vaulted 
passage  of  masonry,  varying  from  twelve  to  a  hundred 
feet  in  length.  This  also,  according  to  Dr.  Taylor,  was 
but  a  survival  of  the  low  entrance-passage  through  which 
the  ancient  Siberians  crept  into  their  subterranean  habita- 
tions, and  which  the  modern  Laplanders  and  Esquimaux 
still  construct  before  their  snow-huts  and  underground 
dwellings,  to  serve  the  purpose  of  a  door  in  keeping 


^xi 


\ 


1  I 


232 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


out  the  wind  and  maintaining  the  temperature  of  the 
interior. 

The  other,  or  cave  type  of  Etruscan  tomb,  is  that 
which  we  see  at  Veii,  and  of  which  there  are  hundreds 
of  examples  all  over  Central  Italy,  wherever  there  are 
deep  valleys   bounded   by   low  cliffs.      This,   too,   was 
modelled  after  the  pattern  of  the  house.     There  were 
usually  two  chambers,  an  outer  and  an  inner  one.     The 
outer  was  the  place  of  meeting  between  the  living  and 
the  dead;    the   surviving  friends   feasted  there   during 
their  annual  visit  to  the  tomb,  while  the  dead  were  laid 
in  the  inner  chamber  in  the  midst  of  familiar  objects. 
Here  everything  was  designed  to  keep  up  the  delusion 
that  the  dead  were  still  living  in  their  own  homes.     The 
roof  of  the  chamber  was  carved  in  imitation  of  the  roof- 
tree,  the  rafters,  and  even  the  tiles  of  the  house ;  the 
rock  around  was  hewn  into  couches,  with  cushions  and 
footstools  like  those  on  which  they  reposed  when  living ; 
on  the  floor  were  the  wine-jars,  the  vases,  and  utensils, 
consecrated   by  long  use;   on   the  various   projections 
were  suspended  the  mirrors,  arms,  and  golden  ornaments 
that  were  most  prized  ;  while  the  walls  were  painted  with 
gay  frescoes,   representing   scenes  of  festivity  in  which 
eating  and  drinking,  music  and  dancing,  played  a  promi- 
nent part.     And  as  the  ordinary  habitation  contained 
the    family,    the    grandparents,    the    parents,    and    the 
children,  all  living  under  the  same  roof,  so  the  Etruscan 
tombs  were  all  family  abodes  —  the  dead   of  a  whole 
generation  being  deposited  in  the  same  inner  chamber. 

To  the  outer  chamber,  as  I  have  said,  came  the 
surviving  members  of  the  family  at  least  once  a  year  to 
hold  a  funeral  feast,  and  pay  their  devotions  to  their 
departed  friends.  The  tombs  of  this  people  were  thus 
at  the  same  time  also  their  temples — the  sacred  places 
where  they  came  to  perform  the  rites  of  their  religion, 
which  consisted  in  worshipping  the  lares  and  penates  of 
their  beloved  dead,  and  making  offerings  to  them.  And 
by  this  striking  Hnk  of  the  cultus  of  the  dead  the  ancient 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


233 


Etruscans  were  connected  with  the  present  inhabitants  of 
Northern  Asia,  the  Finns,  Laplanders,  Tartars,  Mongols, 
and  Chinese,  who  have  no  temples  or  places  of  special 
honour  for  their  idols,  but  assemble  once  a  year  or 
oftener  at  the  graves  of  their  ancestors  to  worship  the 
dead.  But  after  all  there  is  no  great  difference  in  this 
respect  between  the  races,  ancient  and  modern ;  for  the 
churchyard  and  the  church,  the  burial  vaults  and  monu- 
ments within  the  cathedral  and  chapel,  show  how  universal 
is  the  instinct  that  associates  the  dead  with  the  shrine  of 
religion,  and  makes  the  tomb  the  most  appropriate  place 
for  giving  expression  to  those  blessed  hopes  of  immortal- 
ity upon  which  all  religion  is  founded.  The  sanctuary  of 
the  Holy  Land  derived  its  sacredness,  as  well  as  the 
charter  of  its  inheritance,  from  the  cave  of  Machpelah. 
Around  that  patriarchal  tomb  clustered  all  the  grand 
religious  hopes  of  the  covenant  people.  The  early 
Christians  adopted  and  purified  the  Etruscan  custom 
which  they  found  in  Rome,  and  erected  over  the  tombs 
of  the  martyrs  and  other  illustrious  persons  CellceMemoricB, 
or  memorial  chapels,  in  which  on  anniversary  occasions 
the  friends  and  brethren  assembled  to  partake  of  a  funeral 
feast  in  honour  of  the  dead.  The  primitive  Agapae,  or 
love-feasts,  were  often  nothing  more  than  such  banquets 
in  the  memorial  cells  at  the  tombs  of  the  faithful.  And 
in  our  own  country,  many  of  our  most  important  churches, 
towns,  and  villages  took  their  origin  and  name  from  the 
grave  of  some  saint,  who  in  far-off  times  hallowed  the 
spot  and  made  it  a  shrine  of  worship. 

There  are  numerous  indications  that  this  Painted 
Tomb  at  Veii  is  of  very  great  antiquity,  and  may  be 
considered  as  probably  the  oldest  tomb  in  Europe.  No 
inscription  of  any  kind  has  been  found  on  its  walls  or 
any  of  its  contents ;  and  this  circumstance,  which  is 
almost  singular  so  far  as  all  Etruscan  tombs  yet  dis- 
covered are  concerned,  of  itself  indicates  a  very  remote 
date,  when  the  art  of  letters  if  known  at  all  was  only 
known  to  a  privileged  few,  and  confined  to  public  and 


234 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


VII 


THE  PAINTED  TOMB  AT  VEII 


235 


sacred  monuments.     No  clue  remains  to  inform  us  who 
the  Veientine  warrior  was  who    met  his    death   in    so 
tragic  a  manner,  and  who  lay  down  with  his  wife  and 
dependants  in  this  tomb,  and  took  the  last  long  sleep 
without  a  thought  of  posterity  or  the  conclusions  they 
might  form  regarding  him.     And  the  argument  of  hoary 
antiquity   derived   from   this   speechless   silence   of  the 
tomb  IS  still  further  strengthened  by  architectural  evi- 
dence.    The  outer  wall  as  seen  from  the  inside  is  built 
of  rough  uncemented  blocks  of  the  earliest  polygonal 
construction,  such  as  we  see  in  a  few  of  the  oldest 
Cyclopean  cities  of  Central  Italy ;  and  the  doorway  is 
formed  by  the  gradual   convergence   of   stones  laid  in 
horizontal  courses,  instead  of  being  arched  by  regular 
wedges  of  stone  held  together.      Now,  as  the   perfect 
arch  was  known  and  constructed  in  Etruria  at  a  very 
early  period,  this  pseudo-vault,  which  indicates  complete 
ignorance  of  the  principle,  must  belong  to  a  very  remote 
age  indeed— to  the  period  of  the  Cyclopean  gateways  of 
Italy  and  Greece,  whose   origin  is  lost  in  the  mist  of 
a  far-off  antiquity.     There  are  two  limits  within  which 
the  date  of  the  tomb  may  probably  be  placed.     While 
Its    style  and   decorations   are   genuinely  national  and 
characteristic  of  the  primitive  Etruscan  tomb,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  several  Egyptian  features  in  it,  such  as  the 
sphinx  and  the  lotus,  and  in  some  respects  the  colouring 
and  physiognomy  of  the  human  figures,  indicate  some 
acquaintance  with  the  land  of  the  Nile.      Now  an  in- 
scription has  been  found  at  Karnac  which  records  that 
Egypt    was    invaded    by   a   confederation    of   Libyans 
Etruscans,  and  other  races,  and  was  only  saved  after  a 
desperate  struggle  by  the  valour  of  Menephtah  I  of  the 
Nineteenth   Dynasty.     The  allied  forces  occupied  the 
country  for  a  time,  and  took  away  with  them  when  they 
departed  large  spoils,  consisting  among  other  thincrs  of 
bronze  knives  and  armour.     This  happened  in  the  four- 
teenth or  fifteenth  century  before   Christ.     There  can 
be  no  doubt,  therefore,  that  the  civilisation  of  Egypt 


- 


must  at  this  period  have  been  spread  by  commerce  or 
war  among  the  Western  nations,  and  produced  a  power- 
ful influence  upon  the  Etruscans.  The  imitation  of 
Egyptian  models  is  not  so  decided  in  this  tomb  as  it  is 
in  the  painted  tombs  of  Tarquinii  and  other  Etruscan 
cities  of  later  date ;  and  this  circumstance  would  in- 
dicate that  it  was  constructed  at  the  very  commence- 
ment of  the  intercourse  of  Etruria  with  Egypt.  If  we 
take  this  historic  fact  as  the  limit  in  one  direction, 
the  tomb  cannot  be  older  than  three  thousand  three 
hundred  years.  On  the  other  hand,  we  know  that  Veii 
was  destroyed  about  four  hundred  years  before  Christ, 
and  remained  uninhabited  and  desolate  till  the  commence- 
ment of  the  Empire;  we  have,  therefore,  the  surest 
ground  for  fixing  the  date  of  the  tomb  prior  to  that 
event.  Somewhere  between  the  invasion  of  Egypt  by 
the  Etruscan  confederacy  and  the  fall  of  Veii — that  is, 
somewhere  between  the  fourteenth  and  the  fourth  century 
before  Christ — this  sepulchre  was  hewn  in  the  rock  and 
its  tenants  interred  in  it. 

Carlo  Avolta  of  Corneto  on  one  occasion,  opening 
an  Etruscan  tomb  at  Tarquinii,  saw  a  most  wonderful 
sight.  From  an  aperture  which  he  had  made  above  the 
door  of  the  sepulchre  he  looked  in,  and  for  fully  five 
minutes  *' gazed  upon  an  Etruscan  monarch  lying  on  his 
stone  bier,  crowned  with  gold,  clothed  in  armour,  with 
a  shield,  spear,  and  arrows  by  his  side."  But  as  he  gazed 
the  figure  collapsed,  and  finally  disappeared;  and  by 
the  time  an  entrance  was  made  all  that  remained  was 
the  golden  crown,  some  fragments  of  armour,  and  a 
handful  of  gray  dust.  Like  that  Etruscan  tomb  has  been 
the  fate  of  the  Etruscan  confederacy.  This  mighty 
people  left  traces  of  their  civilisation  "  inferior  in  grandeur 
perhaps  to  the  monuments  of  Egypt,  in  beauty  to  those 
of  Greece,  but  with  these  exceptions  surpassing  in  both 
the  relics  of  any  other  nation  of  remote  antiquity."  At 
the  period  of  their  highest  power  they  lived  in  close 
neighbourhood  and  connection  with  a  people  who  got 


236 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP.  VII 


Its  laws,  its  rulers,  its  arts,  its  religion  from  them— and 
might  therefore  if  only  in  gratitude  have  preserved  their 
history.     But  their  fate  was  that  of  the  similar  civilisa- 
tion of  Mexico  and  Peru,  which  its  selfish  Spanish  con- 
querors instead  of  preserving  sought  studiously  to  obliter- 
ate.    The  comprehensive  history  of  Etruria  written  in 
twenty  volumes  by  the  emperor  Claudius— who,  though 
very  feeble  in  other  things,  was  yet  a  scholar,  and  could 
have  given  us  much  interesting  information— perished. 
Their  language,  which  survived  their  absorption  by  Rome' 
almost  as  late  as  the  time   of  the  Casars,  finally  dis- 
appeared;    and    though    thousands    of   inscriptions    in 
tombs  and  on  works  of  art  remain— which  we  are  able 
to  read  from   the  close  resemblance    of  the  alphabet 
to  the  Greek— the  key   to    the   interpretation    of  the 
language   is  gone   beyond   recall.     In  an  age  that  has 
unravelled  the  Egyptian  hieroglyphics,  and  the  cuneiform 
characters    of   Assyria,    and    the    runic   inscriptions    of 
Northern  Europe,  the   Etruscan   language  presents  al- 
most the  only  philological  problem  that  refuses  to  be 
solved.     Thus  when  the  air  and  the  light  of  modern 
investigation    penetrated    into    the    mystery  which   sur- 
rounded this  strange  people,  all  that  was  most  important 
had  vanished ;  and  only  the  few  ornaments  of  the  tomb 
remained  to  tell  us  of  a  lost  world  of  art,  literature,  and 
human  life  which  had  perished  not  by  internal  exhaustion, 
but  had  fallen   before  the  arms  of  Rome   in   the  full 
maturity  of  its  civilisation. 


i 


CHAPTER    VIII 

HOLED  STONES  AND  MARTYR  WEIGHTS 

In  the  porch  of  the  interesting  old  church  of  Sta. 
Maria  in  Cosmedin  near  the  Tiber  is  preserved  a  huge 
circular  stone  like  a  millstone.  It  is  composed  of 
white  marble,  upwards  of  five  feet  in  diameter,  and  is 
finished  after  the  model  of  the  dramatic  mask  used  in 
the  ancient  theatres.  In  the  centre  is  a  round  hole  per- 
forating the  mass  right  through,  forming  the  mouth  of 
the  mask.  It  is  called  the  Bocca  della  Verita,  and  has 
given  its  name  to  the  irregular  piazza  in  which  the  church 
is  situated.  It  is  so  called  from  the  use  to  which  it 
has  been  put  from  time  immemorial,  as  an  ordeal  for 
testing  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  an  accused  person.  If 
the  suspected  individual  on  making  an  affirmation  thrust 
his  hand  through  the  hole  and  was  able  to  draw  it  back 
again,  he  was  pronounced  innocent ;  but  if,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  hand  remained  fixed  in  the  marble  jaws,  the 
person  was  declared  to  have  sworn  falsely  and  was  pro- 
nounced guilty.  The  marble  mouth  was  supposed  by 
the  superstitious  to  contract  or  expand  itself  according 
to  the  moral  character  of  the  arraigned  person.  No 
reason  has  been  given  why  this  singular  marble  mask 
should  have  been  placed  in  this  church,  nor  is  anything 
known  of  its  previous  history.  Some  have  conjectured 
that  it  served  as  an  impluvium  or  mouth  of  a  drain  in 
the  centre  of  a  court  to  let  the  water  run  off;  and  others 
regard  it  as  having  been  an  ornament  for  a  fountain, 


II 


238 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 

like  the  colossal  mask  of  marble  out  of  the  mouth  of 
which  a  jet  of  water  falls  into  a  fountain  in  the  Via  de 
Mascherone,  called  after  it,  near  the  Farnese  Palace  and 
the  marble  mask  which  belongs  to  a  small  fountain  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river  near  the  Palazzo  Salviati 
13ut^  the  question  arises,  Why  should  the  Bocca  della 
Verita,  if  such  was  its  origin,  have  been  used  for  the 
superstitious  purpose  connected  with  it  ?  Our  answer  to 
this  question  must  lead  us  back  to  the  Temple  of  Ceres 
and  Proserpine  which  originally  stood  on  the  site  of  the 
church  of  Sta.  Maria  in  Cosmedin,  and  of  the  materials  of 
which  the  Christian  edifice  was  largely  built. 

In  primitive  times  the  worship  of  clefts  in  rocks,  holes 
in  the  earth,  or  stones  having  a  natural  or  artificial  per- 
foration,  appears  to    have  been  almost  universal.      We 
find  traces  of  it  in  almost  every  country,  and  amongst 
almost  every  people.      These  sacred  chasms  or  holes 
were  regarded  as  emblems  of  the  celestial  mother,  and 
persons  went  into  them  and  came  out  again,  so  as  to  be 
born  anew,  or  squeezed  themselves  through  the  holes  in 
order  to  obtain  the  remission  of  their  sins.     In  ancient 
1  alestine  this  form  of  idolatry  was  known  as  the  wor- 
ship of  Baal-perazim,  or  Baal  of  the  clefts  or  breaches 
Uavid  obtained  a  signal  victory  over  the  Philistines  at  one 
of  the  shrines  of  this  god,  and  burnt  there  the  images 
peculiar  to  this  mode  of  worship  which  the  enemy  had 
left  behind  in  its  flight.     About  two  miles  from  Bombay 
there  is  a  rock  on  the  promontory  of  the  Malabar  Hill 
which  has  a  natural  crevice,  communicating  with  a  cavity 
below,  and  opening  upon  the  sea.      This  crevice  is  too 
narrow  for  corpulent  persons  to  squeeze  through,  but  it 
is  constantly  resorted   to   for   purposes  of  moral   puri- 
fication.    Through  natural  or  artificial  caverns  in  India 
pilgrims  enter  at  the  south  side,  and  make  their  exit  at  the 
northern,  as  was  anciently  the  custom  in  the  Mithraic 
mysteries.     Those  who  pass  through  such  caves  are  con- 
sidered  to  receive  by  this  action  a  new  birth  of  the  soul 
According  to  the  same  idea  the  rulers  of  Travancore,  who 


viil      HOLED  STONES  AND  MARTYR  WEIGHTS        239 

are  Nairs  by  caste,  are  made  into  Brahmins  when  they 
ascend  the  throne  by  passing  through  a  hole  in  a  large 
golden  image  of  a  cow  or  lotus  flower,  which  then 
becomes  the  property  of  the  Brahmin  priests.  It  is 
possible  that  there  may  be  an  allusion  to  this  primitive 
custom  in  the  rule  of  the  Jewish  Temple,  mentioned  by 
Ezekiel, — "  He  that  entereth  in  by  the  way  of  the  north 
gate  to  worship  shall  go  out  by  the  way  of  the  south  gate ; 
and  he  that  entereth  by  the  wj  y  of  the  south  gate  shall  go 
forth  by  the  way  of  the  north  gate  :  he  shall  not  return  by 
the  way  of  the  gate  whereby  he  came  in,  but  shall  go 
forth  over  against  it"  This  arrangement  may  have  been 
made  not  as  a  mere  matter  of  convenience,  but  as  a 
survival  of  the  old  practice  of  "  passing  through "  a 
sacred  cave  or  crevice  for  the  forgiveness  of  sins ; — a 
survival  purified  and  ennobled  in  the  service  of  God. 

The  oldest  of  all  religious  monuments  of  which  we 
have  any  existing  trace  are  cromlechs,  found  mostly  in 
waste,  uncultivated  places.  These  are  of  various  forms, 
but  they  are  mostly  tripods,  consisting  of  a  copestone 
poised  upon  three  other  stones,  two  at  the  head  and  one 
at  the  foot.  The  supports  are  rough  boulders,  the  largest 
masses  of  stone  that  could  be  found  or  moved ;  and  the 
copestone  is  an  enormous  flat  square  block,  often  with 
cup-shaped  hollows  carved  upon  its  surface.  Under  this 
copestone  there  was  a  vacant  space,  varying  in  size  from 
a  foot  or  two  to  the  height  of  a  man  on  horseback. 
Through  this  vacant  space  persons  used  to  pass  ;  and  the 
narrower  the  space,  the  more  difficult  the  feat  of  crawling 
through,  the  more  meritorious  was  the  act.  In  our  own 
country  there  are  numerous  relics  of  this  primitive  custom. 
In  Cornwall  there  are  two  holed  stones,  one  called  Tol- 
ven,  situated  near  St.  Buryan,  and  the  other  called  Men- 
an-tol,  near  Madron,  which  have  been  used  within  living 
memory  for  curing  infirm  children  by  passing  them  through 
the  aperture.  In  the  parish  of  Minchin  Hampton, 
Gloucestershire,  is  a  stone  called  Long  Stone,  seven  or 
eight  feet  in  height,  having  near  the  bottom  of  it  a  large 


240 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


perforation,  through  which,  not  many  years  since,  children 
brought  from  a  considerable  distance  were  passed  for  the 
cure  of  measles  and  whooping-cough.      On  the  west  side 
of  the  Island  of  Tyree  in  Scotland  is  a  rock  with  a  crevice 
in  it  through  which  children  were  put  when  suffering  from 
various  infantile  diseases.     In  connection  with  the  ancient 
ruined  church  of  St.  Molaisse  on  the  Island  of  Devenish 
in  Loch  Erne  in  Ireland,  there  is  an  artificially  perforated 
stone,  through  which  persons  still  pass,  when  the  opening 
will  admit,  in  order  to  be  regenerated.      If  the  hole  be 
too  small,  they  put  the  hand  or  the  foot  through  it,  and 
the  effect  is   thus  limited.      Examples  of  such    holed 
stones  are  to  be  found  in  some  of  the  old  churches  of 
Ireland,  such  as   Castledermot,  County   Kildare ;    Kil- 
malkedar.  County  Kerry  ;  Kilbarry,  near  Tarmon  Barry, 
on  the  Shannon.       In   Madras,   diseased   children  are 
passed  under  the  lintels  of  doorways ;  and  in  rural  parts 
of  England  they  used  to  be  passed  through  a  cleft  ash 
tree.     At  Maryhill,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Glasgow, 
about  a  year  ago,   when  an   epidemic  of  measles  and 
whooping-cough  was  prevalent,  two  mothers  took  advan- 
tage,  for   the  carrying  out   of  this   superstition,   of  the 
presence  in  the  village  of  an  ass  which  drew  the  cart  of 
a  travelling  rag-gatherer.      They  stood  one  on  each  side 
of  the  animal.     One  woman  then  took  one  of  the  children 
and  passed  it  face  downward  through  below  the  ass's 
belly  to  the  other  woman,  who  in  turn  handed  it  back 
with  its  face   this  time  turned  towards  the  sky.      The 
process  having  been  repeated  three  times,  the  child  was 
taken  away  to  the  house,  and  then  the  second  child  was 
similarly  treated.     The  mothers  were  thoroughly  satis- 
fied that  their  children  were  the  better  of  the  magic 
process. 

A  mysterious  virtue  was  supposed  to  be  connected  with 
passing  under  the  ancient  gate  of  Mycenae  by  the  primitive 
race  who  constructed  it.  Jacob's  words  at  Bethel,  *'  This 
is  the  gate  of  heaven,"  may  have  an  allusion  to  the  pre- 
historic custom  of  the  place;    for  we  have  reason  to 


viii       HOLED  STONES  AND  MARTYR  WEIGHTS       241 

believe  that  a  dolmen  existed  there,  consecrated  to  solar 
worship,  the  original  name  of  Bethel  being  Beth-on,  the 
house  of  the  sun.  The  hollow  space  beneath  the  dolmen 
was  considered  the  altar-gate  leading  to  paradise,  so  that 
whosoever  passed  through  it  was  certain  to  obtain  new 
life  or  immortality.  It  was  an  old  superstition  that  the 
dead  required  to  be  brought  out  of  the  house  not  by  the 
ordinary  door  of  the  living,  but  by  a  breach  made  speci- 
ally in  the  wall,  in  order  that  they  might  thus  pass  through 
a  species  of  purgatory.  We  find  an  exceedingly  interest- 
ing example  of  this  primitive  superstition  in  the  punish- 
ment that  was  imposed  upon  the  survivor  in  the  famous 
combat  between  the  Horatii  and  Curiatii,  when  he  mur- 
dered his  sister,  on  account  of  her  unpatriotic  devotion 
to  her  slain  lover.  The  father  of  Horatius,  after  making 
a  piacular  sacrifice,  erected  a  beam  across  the  street 
leading  from  the  Vicus  Cyprius  to  the  Carinae,  with  an 
altar  on  each  side — the  one  dedicated  to  Juno  Sororia 
and  the  other  to  Janus  Curiatius — and  under  this  yoke 
he  made  his  son  pass  with  his  head  veiled.  This  beam 
long  survived  under  the  name  of  Tigillum  Sororium  or 
Sister's  Beam,  and  was  constantly  repaired  at  the  public 
expense. 

In  modern  times  there  are  two  most  remarkable  sur- 
vivals of  the  same  kind.  One  of  them  is  in  the  corridor 
of  the  mosque  of  Aksa  at  Jerusalem.  In  this  place  are 
two  pillars,  standing  close  together,  and  like  those  in  the 
mosque  of  Omar  at  Cairo,  they  are  used  as  a  test  of 
character.  It  is  said  that  whosoever  can  squeeze  himself 
between  them  is  certain  of  paradise,  and  must  be  a  good 
Moslem.  The  pillars  have  been  worn  thin  by  the  friction 
of  countless  devotees.  An  iron  bar  has  now,  however,  been 
placed  between  the  pillars  by  the  present  enlightened 
Pasha  of  Jerusalem  to  prevent  the  practice  in  future. 
The  other  instance  is  what  is  popularly  known  as 
"threading  the  needle"  in  the  Cathedral  of  Ripon. 
Beneath  the  central  tower  of  this  minster  there  is  a  small 
crypt  or  vaulted  cell  entered  from  the  nave  by  a  narrow 


242 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


passage.  At  the  north  side  of  this  crypt  there  is  an 
opening  thirteen  inches  by  eighteen,  called  St.  Wilfred's 
needle.  This  passage  was  formerly  used  as  a  test  of 
character ;  for  only  an  honest  man,  one  new-born,  could 
pass  through  it.  ".  They  pricked  their  credits  who  could 
not  thread  the  needle,"  was  the  quaint  remark  of  old 
Fuller  in  reference  to  the  original  use  of  the  opening. 
It  may  be  remarked  that  the  well-known  boys'  game  of 
'[  Through  the  needle's  e'e,  boys,"  had  its  origin  in  all 
likelihood  in  the  old  superstition.  Thus  we  can  trace 
the  use  made  of  the  Bocca  della  Verita  in  Rome  to  the 
primitive  idolatry  associated  perhaps  with  the  Temple  of 
Ceres  that  formerly  stood  on  the  spot. 

Some  other  superstitious  practices  of  a  closely  allied 
nature  may  be  traced  to  the  same  source.     In  the  Orkney 
Islands,  not   far  from   the   famous   Standing  Stones  of 
Stennis,  there   is   a   single   monolith   with  a  large   hole 
through  it,  which  has  become  celebrated,  owing  to  the 
allusion  to  it  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  in  his  novel  of  the 
Pira/e.      It    is   called    Odin's   Stone;    and   till  a   very 
recent  period  it  was  the  local  custom  to  take  an  oath  by 
joining  hands  through  the  hole  in  it ;  and  this  oath  was 
considered   even   by  the  regular  courts  of  Orkney  as 
peculiarly  solemn  and  binding ;  the  person  who  violated 
It  being  accounted  infamous  and  excluded  from  society. 
In  the  old  churchyard  of  the  ruined  monastery  of  Saints 
Island  in  the  Shannon,  there  is  an  ancient  black  marble 
flagstone  called   the  *'Cremave"  or  "swearing  stone." 
The  saints  are  said  to  have  made  it  a  revealer  of  truth. 
Any  one  suspected  of  falsehood  is  brought  here,  and  if 
the  accused  swears  falsely  the  stone  has  the  power  to  set 
a  mark  upon  him  and  his  family  for  several  generations. 
But  if  no  mark  appears  he  is  known  to  be  innocent. 
Many  other  equally  interesting  instances  might  be  quoted 
all  akin  to  the  superstition  in  Rome.    It  is  not  too  fanciful 
to   suppose   that  even   the  Jewish   mode  of  making  a 
covenant  had  something  to  do  with  this  primitive  custom. 
The  animal   offered   in   sacrifice  was  divided   into   two 


I 


VIII       HOLED  STONES  AND  MARTYR  WEIGHTS       243 

pieces,  and  so  arranged  that  a  space  was  left  between 
them.  Through  this  space,  between  the  parts,  the  con- 
tracting persons  passed  in  order  to  ratify  the  covenant. 
We  have  a  striking  account  of  this  ceremony  in  the  case 
of  Abraham  ;  and  it  is  in  allusion  to  it  that  the  author  of 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  says  that  we  have  boldness  to 
enter  into  the  holiest  "by  a  new  and  living  way,  which 
he  hath  consecrated  for  us,  through  the  veil,  that  is  to  say, 
his  flesh." 

The  superstitious  practices  connected  with  clefts  and 
holed  stones  were  denounced  by  councils  of  the  Christian 
Church,  which  subjected  transgressors  to  various  penalties. 
Consequently  this  mode  of  worship  came  into  evil  repute ; 
and  what  was  formerly  considered  a  meritorious  action, 
securing  the  cure  of  disease  or  future  happiness,  became  a 
deed  of  evil,  to  be  followed  by  some  calamity.  For  this 
reason  the  primitive  symbolism  was  reversed  in  many 
cases,  such  as  "  passing  under  a  ladder,"  which  is  now 
considered  unlucky  ;  or  in  Eastern  lands  going  between  a 
wall  and  a  pole,  between  two  women  or  two  dogs,  which 
the  Talmud  forbids  as  an  omen  of  evil. 

Passing  from  the  subject  of  holed  stones  I  proceed  to 
consider  another  class  of  interesting  prehistoric  objects 
that  survive  in  the  more  primitive  churches  of  Rome.  In 
the  same  church  of  Sta.  Maria  in  Cosmedin — where  the 
Bocca  della  Verita  which  I  have  described  occurs — there 
is  a  curious  crypt  called  the  chapel  of  St.  Cyril,  who  under- 
took a  mission  about  the  year  eight  hundred  and  sixty  to 
convert  the  Slavs  in  Bulgaria  to  Christianity,  and  suffered 
martyrdom  in  the  attempt.  Beside  an  ancient  altar  of 
primitive  construction  on  one  side  is  preserved  a  large 
slab  of  granite  on  which  St.  Cyril  is  said  to  have  knelt 
when  he  was  put  to  death;  and  half- sunk  in  the  wall 
opposite  are  two  large,  smooth,  dark-coloured  stones,  in 
shape  not  unlike  curling  stones — or  an  orange  from  which 
a  portion  has  been  sliced  off  horizontally.  They  cannot 
fail  to  be  seen  when  attention  is  directed  to  them. 

Such  stones,  often  made  level  at  the  top  and  bottom, 


244 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


and  with  a  ring  inserted  in  the  upper  surface,  are  not 
uncommon  in  the  older  churches   of  Rome,  although 
they  are  very  seldom  noticed,   as    their  significance  is 
only  known  to  a  few  experts.     One  is   placed   in  the 
centre   of  the    middle   nave    of  Santa   Sabina,   on   the 
Aventine,  on  the  top  of  a  short  spirally- fluted  column 
of  white  marble,  which  marks  the  spot  where  St.  Domi- 
nic, the  founder  of  the  order  of  the  Dominicans,  used 
to  kneel  down  and  pray.     It  has  received  the  name  of 
Pietra  di  Paragone,  or  the  Touchstone.     Another  may 
be  seen  at  the  entrance  of  the  church  of  Santa  Puden- 
ziana,  on  the  Esquiline,  supposed  to  have  been  built  on 
the  site  of  the  house  of  the  Roman  senator  Pudens, 
whose  daughter,  Pudentiana,  St.  Peter  is  said  to  have  con- 
verted to  Christianity.     A  third  exists  among  the  exten- 
sive collection  of  relics  belonging  to  the  ten  thousand 
three    hundred    martyrs   whose   remains,    according   to 
tradition,  were  deposited  in  the  church  of  S.  Prassede, 
at  the  beginning   of  the  ninth  century,  by  Paschal   l! 
Two  stones  may  be  observed  upon  the  gable  wall  imme- 
diately above  the  basins  of  holy  water  in  the  interior  of 
the  church  of  S.  Nicolo  in  Carcere,  near  the  Ghetto. 
Two  others  are  inserted  in  the  wall  of  the  Baptistery  of 
St.  John  Lateran,  between  the  vestibule  and  the  octa- 
gonal area  containing  the  so-called  gigantic  font  in  which 
Constantine  was  baptized.     A  very  interesting  stone  hangs 
suspended  from  the  gilded  iron  grating  which  protects 
the  crypt  or  confessional  of  St.  Laurence,  immediately 
underneath  the  high  altar  of  the  great  Basilica  of  San 
Lorenzo  beyond  the  Gate.     A  stone  still  more  remark- 
able, guarded  by  a  strong  iron  grating,  projects  half  its 
bulk  from  the  wall  on  the  right-hand  side  of  the  arch 
which  divides  the  transept  from  the  middle  nave  in  the 
venerable  church  of  Santa  Maria  in  Trastevere.     Two 
other  stones  may  be  seen  in   the  quaint  old  church  of 
SS.  Cosma  e  Damiano  at  the  south-eastern  angle  of  the 
Roman  Forum,  composed   of  portions  of  three  pagan 
temples.     They  are  inserted  in  the  plain  whitewashed 


I 


VIII       HOLED  STONES  AND  MARTYR  WEIGHTS       245 

walls  on  both  sides  of  the  circular  arch  through  which 
you  pass  from  the  round  vestibule  into  the  interior  of 
the  church.  I  have  noticed  similar  stones  in  no  less 
than  twenty  places  besides  those  I  have  mentioned ; 
and  I  am  assured  that  they  may  be  seen  in  many  more 
churches. 

It  is  very  difficult  to  obtain  any  accurate  or  satisfac- 
tory information  regarding  these  curious  stones.  They 
go  by  the  name  of  Lapides  Martyrum,  or  Martyr-stones. 
During  the  persecutions  of  the  early  Christians  in  Rome 
they  are  said  to  have  been  hung  round  the  necks  of  those 
who  were  condemned  to  be  drowned  in  the  Tiber.  In 
the  reign  of  the  emperor  Diocletian  many  martyrs 
perished  in  this  way,  and  the  stones  by  which  they  were 
sunk  beneath  the  fatal  waters,  according  to  the  popular 
idea,  were  afterwards  found,  and  carefully  preserved  as 
holy  relics  in  the  churches  in  which  they  are  now  to  be 
seen.  Beyond  doubt  they  are  genuine  remains  of  anti- 
quity, and  some  of  them  at  least  may  have  been  used 
for  the  purpose  alleged ;  although  we  cannot  be  sure, 
in  any  case,  that  the  story  connected  with  particular 
stones  is  authentic.  St.  Sabine  desired  that  the  stone 
which  was  to  be  tied  to  him  when  thrown  in  the  river 
should  be  buried  with  his  body,  and  this  might  have  been 
done  in  the  case  of  other  martyrs.  The  stones  in  the 
church  of  SS.  Cosma  e  Damiano  are  supposed  to  have 
been  the  very  ones  that  were  fastened  to  the  necks  of 
these  devoted  Christians  when  they  were  thrown  into 
the  Tiber  in  the  reign  of  Maximian.  But  as  the  place 
and  manner  of  their  martyrdom  are  involved  in  hope- 
less obscurity,  the  various  accounts  given  of  both  being 
contradictory,  the  ecclesiastical  legend  has  no  weight. 
Cosma  and  Damian  were  Arabian  doctors  who  were 
converted  to  Christianity,  and  belonged  to  the  class 
called  "  silverless  martyrs  " — that  is,  physicians  who  took 
no  fee  from  those  whom  they  cured,  but  only  stipulated 
that  they  should  believe  in  Christ  the  Great  Physician. 
They  occupied  in  Christian  hagiology  the   same  place 


246 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


as  the  ancient  myth  of  Esculapius  occupied  in  pagan 
mythology. 

Around  the  stone  in  the  church  of  Santa  Sabina  a 
curious  legend  has  gathered.    The  sacristan,  a  Dominican 
friar  of  the  neighbouring  convent,  is  in  the  habit  of  telling 
the  visitors  that  the  devil  one  day,  while  St.    Dominic 
was  kneeling  on  the  pavement  as  usual,  hurled  the  huge 
stone  in  question,  with  his  utmost  force,  against  the  head 
of  the  saint ;  but,  strange  to  say,  it  either  missed  him 
altogether  or  failed  to  do  him  any  injury,  the  saint  going 
calmly  on  with  his  devotions  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
On  the  stone  in  the  church  of  Santa  Maria  in  Trastevere 
there  is  an  inscription  in  Latin,  informing  us  that  it  was 
fastened  round  the  neck  of  St.  Calixtus,  the  Bishop  of 
Rome,  who,  after  having  been  scourged  during  an  out- 
break of  pagan  hostility,  was  thrown  out  of  a  window  in 
his  house  in  the  Trastevere,  and  flung  into  a  well.     The 
stone  in  the  Basilica  of  S.  Lorenzo  is  connected  with  the 
sufferings    and   death   either  of  St.  Justinian  or  of  St. 
Stephen,  the  proto-martyr,  who  was  stoned  to  death  in 
Palestine,  and  whose  remains,  miraculously  recovered,  are 
supposed  to  rest  in  the  crypt  below,  along  with  those  of 
St.  Laurence.     All  these  relics  are  devoutly  worshipped, 
and  they  are  believed  to  cure  diseases,  and  to  protect 
against  evil  those  who  touch  them. 

Examining  the  martyr-stones  more  closely,  we  find 
abundant  evidence  to  confirm  the  account  which  is 
usually  given  of  their  origin,  viz.  that  they  were  first 
used  as  Roman  measures  of  weight.  Several  of  them 
have  inscribed  upon  their  upper  surface  the  names  of  the 
quaestors  or  prefects  who  issued  them,  as  well  as  the 
number  of  pounds  and  ounces  which  they  represented ; 
the  pounds  being  distinguished  by  figures,  and  the  ounces 
expressed  by  dots  or  small  circles.  Numbers  of  such 
ancient  Roman  weights  of  stone,  similarly  inscribed, 
may  be  seen  in  the  Kircherian  Museum  in  the  Collegio 
Romano.  One  specimen  bears  an  inscription  which 
signifies  that,  by  the  authority  of  Augustus,  the  weight 


r 


I 


VIII       HOLED  STONES  AND  MARTYR  WEIGHTS       247 

was  preserved  in  the  temple  of  the  goddess  Ops,  the  wife 
of  Saturn,  and  one  of  the  most  ancient  deities  of  Italy, 
where  the  public  money  w^as  deposited.  Montfaucon,  in 
the  third  volume  of  his  learned  and  elaborate  work  on 
Antiquity,  has  a  plate  illustrating  a  number  of  character- 
istic specimens  of  these  weights  from  the  cabinet  of  St. 
Germain's.  This  previous  use  would  lead  us  to  suspect 
that  all  the  stones  in  the  Roman  churches  did  not  figure 
in  scenes  of  martyrdom.  Some  of  them,  indeed,  were 
found  in  the  loculi  or  graves  of  the  Catacombs ;  but  this 
circumstance  of  itself  does  not  prove  that  the  body  in- 
terred therein  had  been  that  of  a  martyr,  and  that  the 
stone  had  been  employed  in  his  execution.  We  know 
that  the  early  Christians  were  in  the  habit  of  depositing 
in  the  graves  of  their  friends  the  articles  that  were  most 
valued  by  them  during  life.  And  hence,  in  the  Catacombs, 
a  singular  variety  of  objects  have  been  found.  Stone 
weights,  therefore,  may  have  been  put  into  the  graves  of 
Christians,  not  as  instruments  of  suffering  but  as  objects 
typical  of  the  occupation  of  the  departed  in  this  life,  in 
accordance  with  the  habit  of  their  pagan  forefathers, 
which  the  Roman  Christians  had  adopted.  Some,  how- 
ever, of  the  stones,  as  I  have  said,  may  have  been  used 
according  to  the  popular  legend  for  the  drowning  of 
martyrs ;  and  these  weights  were  conveniently  at  hand 
in  places  of  public  resort,  and  lent  themselves  readily,  by 
the  rings  inserted  in  many  of  them,  to  the  persecutor's 
purpose. 

The  material  of  which  they  are  composed  is  in  nearly 
all  cases  the  same.  It  is  a  stone  of  extreme  hardness 
and  of  various  shades  of  colour,  from  a  light  green  to  a 
dark  olive,  with  a  degree  of  transparency  equal  to  that 
of  wax  and  susceptible  of  a  fine  polish.  By  some 
writers  it  is  called  a  black  stone ;  but  this  colour  may 
have  been  given  to  it  by  frequent  handling  when  in  use, 
and  by  the  grime  of  age  since.  It  was  called  by  the 
Romans,  from  the  use  made  of  it  in  fabricating  measures 
of   weight,    lapis   cequipondus^    and    from    its    supposed 


r- 


248 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


efficacy  in  the   cure  of  diseases   of  the  kidneys  lapis 
tiephriticus.     Fabreti  says  that  it  got  the  name  of  lapis 
Lydius  from  the  locality  from  which  it  was  believed  to 
have  come.      It  is  a  kind  of  nephrite  or  jade,  a  mineral 
which  usually  occurs  in  talcose  or  magnesian  rocks.     At 
one  time  it  was  supposed  to  exist  only  on  the  river  Kara- 
Kash,  in  the  Kuen  Luen  mountains  north  of  Cashmere, 
and  for  thousands  of  years  the  mines  of  that  locality 
were  the  only  known  worked  ones  of  pure  jade.     It  has 
since,    however,   been   found   in   New  Zealand   and    in 
India ;  while  the  discoverers  of  South  America  obtained 
specimens  of  it  in  its  natural   state   from   the   natives 
of  Peru,  who  used  it  for  making  axes  and  arrow-heads, 
and  gave  it  the  name  of  piedra  de  yjada,  from  which 
comes  our  common  word  jade,  on   account  of  its  use 
as  a  supposed  cure  for  the   iliac  passion.     It  may  be 
mentioned  that  there  is  a  mineral  closely  allied  to  jade 
called  "  Saussurite,"  discovered  by  the  great  geologist 
whose  name  it  bears  near  Monte  Rosa,  and  since  found 
on  the  borders  of  the  Lake  of  Geneva,  near  Genoa,  and 
in  Corsica.     It  is  possible  that  the  martyr-stones  may  be 
made  of  this  mineral,  for  they  have  not  been  analysed. 
But  if  they  are,  as  it  is  supposed,  made  of  true  jade,  the 
fact  opens  up  many  important  questions. 

No  stone  has  a  more  remarkable  history.  It  is  an 
object  of  interest  alike  to  the  geologist  and  the  anti- 
quarian ;  and  in  spite  of  the  most  patient  inquiry  its 
antecedents  are  surrounded  with  a  mystery  which  cannot 
be  satisfactorily  solved.  Its  antiquity  is  beyond  doubt. 
In  the  most  ancient  books  of  China  it  is  noticed  as  one 
of  the  articles  of  tribute  paid  to  the  emperor.  Dr. 
Schliemann  found  it  among  the  ruins  of  Troy.  But  its 
history  stretches  into  the  misty  past  far  anterior  in  time 
to  all  ordinary  records,  to  Cyclopean  constructions,  or  to 
pictured  and  sculptured  stones.  One  of  the  most  curious 
things  brought  to  light  in  connection  with  the  prehistoric 
annals  of  our  race  is  the  wide  diffusion  of  this  mineral 
in  regions  as  far  apart  as  China  and  Britain.     Owing  to 


4 


viii       HOLED  STONES  AND  MARTYR  WEIGHTS       249 

its  extreme  hardness  and  susceptibility  to  polish,  it  was 
highly  prized  by  the  neolithic  races  for  the  manufacture 
of  stone  axes  and  hammers.  In  nearly  every  European 
country  implements  of  jade  belonging  to  the  primitive 
inhabitants  have  been  discovered.  Some  of  the  most 
beautiful  belonged  to  one  of  the  latest  settlements  of 
the  stone  age  at  Gerlafingen,  in  the  Lake  of  Bienne,  and 
were  mixed  with  bronze  celts  of  primitive  type,  indicat- 
ing that  the  people  of  these  lake-dwellings  lived  during 
the  transition  period  between  stone  and  bronze. 

The  presence  of  such  celts  made  of  jade  obviously 
points  to  a  connection  at  a  very  early  period  wnth  the 
East,  from  whence  the  stone  must  have  been  brought, 
for  it  has  never  been  found  in  a  natural  state  west  of  the 
Caspian.  An  interesting  controversy  upon  this  subject 
was  created  about  eight  years  ago  by  the  finding  in  the 
bed  of  the  Rhone  of  a  jade  strigil,  an  instrument  curved 
and  hollowed  like  a  spoon  used  to  scrape  the  skin  while 
bathing.  Various  conjectures  were  formed  as  to  how  this 
isolated  object  could  have  found  its  way  from  its  distant 
quarry  in  the  East  to  this  obscure  spot  among  the  Alps. 
Professor  Max  Miiller,  and  those  who  along  with  him 
advocate  the  Oriental  origin  of  the  first  settlers  in 
Europe,  are  of  opinion  that  this  strigil  and  the  various 
jade  implements  found  in  the  Swiss  lake-dwellings,  are 
relics  of  this  Western  migration  from  the  primitive 
cradle  of  the  Aryan  race  on  the  plateaus  of  Central  Asia. 
The  implements  could  only  have  come  from  the  East, 
for  the  other  sources  of  jade  supply  in  New  Zealand  and 
America — since  discovered — were  altogether  unknown 
in  those  primitive  times.  And  this  conclusion  is  sup- 
ported by  an  imposing  array  of  concurrent  philological 
evidence,  based  upon  the  resemblances  between  the 
Aryan  languages  of  Europe,  so  strangely  akin  to  each 
other,  and  the  ancient  dialects  of  India  and  Persia. 
But  plausible  as  this  argument  looks,  the  more  probable 
explanation  is  that  the  inhabitants  of  Europe  obtained 
the  material  which  they  laboriously  fashioned  into  tools 


250 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


from  the  East,  according  to  a  system  of  barter  similar  to 
that  which  still   exists  amongst  tribes   more  rude  and 
savage  than  the  Swiss  lake- dwellers.     Numerous  facts 
of  a  like  tendency  are  on  record,  such  as  the  finding  in 
the   mounds    of  the   Mississippi  valley,   side    by  sMe, 
obsidian  from  Mexico  and  mica  from  the  Alleghanies 
and  in  the  mounds    around    the    great  northern    lakes 
large  tropical  shells  two  thousand  miles  from  their  native 
habitat.      Ihe  ancient  inhabitants  of  China  and  India 
found  at  a  very  early  period  that  they  possessed  in  their 
jade  rocks  a  very   valuable   material,   in   exchanire    for 
which    they    could    get    what    they    wanted    from    the 
\V  estern  races ;  while  these  Western  races  had  at  least 
one  article  which  they  could  barter  for  the  much-prized 
jade  implements,  viz.  linen  cloth,  the  weaving  of  which 
was  practised  in  the  oldest  settlements,  hanks  of  unspun 
flax  and  thread,  nets  and   cloth  of   the  same  material 
having    been    found    not    unfrequcntly    in    the    lake 
dwellings. 

What  an  interesting  glimpse  into  the  far-off  past  does 
this  link  of  connection  between  the  East  and  the  West  give 
us  1     It  mdicates  a  degree  of  civilisation  which  we  are 
not  accustomed  to  associate  with  these  primeval  times. 
Arch^ologists  are  of  opinion  that  the  race  who  inhabited 
Central  Europe  during  the  earlier  part  of  the  stone  age 
were  akin  to  the  modern  Laplanders.      The  people  of 
the   lake  dwellings,  however,  and  especially  those  who 
used   jade    implements,    who   replaced    them,    were   a 
superior  and  more  civilised  race.     The  evidence  of  the 
articles  which  they  used,  with  the  exception  of  jade  itself 
points  not  to  an  Asiatic  origin,  but  rather  to  a  connection 
with  the  shores  on  both   sides   of  the  Mediterranean. 
When  they  migrated  northwards  they  brought  with  them 
he  flax  and  the  cereals  of  Egypt,  and  introduced  with 
them   the    southern    weeds    which    grew   among    these 
cultivated  plants.      The  seeds  of  the  catch-fly  of  Crete 
which  does  not  grow  in  Switzerland  or  Germany,  have 
been  found  among  the  relics  of  the  earliest  of  the  lake 


VIII       HOLED  STONES  AND  MARTYR  WEIGHTS       251 

dwellings ;  while  the  familiar  corn  blue-bottle  of  our 
autumn  fields  was  first  brought  from  its  native  Sicily  by 
this  lacustrine  people  in  whose  cultivated  fields  it  grew 
as  a  weed,  and  by  them  spread  over  all  Western  and 
Northern  Europe.  Such  are  the  interesting  associations 
and  profound  problems  connected  with  the  material  of  the 
martyr  weights.  And  it  is  unique  in  this  respect,  that 
it  meets  us  as  far  back  as  the  first  traces  of  neolithic  man 
in  Central  Europe — nay,  farther  back  still,  in  the  palaeo- 
lithic flints  found  in  the  caves  near  Mentone  ;  and  that  it 
is  still  used  in  the  countries  where  it  is  found  for  a  great 
variety  of  useful  and  ornamental  purposes,  idols  being 
carved  out  of  it,  and  altars  adorned  with  its  semi-trans- 
parent olive-green  slabs.  The  inhabitants  of  the  South 
Sea  Islands  until  recently  used  it  for  their  stone  imple- 
ments in  the  same  way  that  the  ancient  lake  dwellers 
did ;  and  the  Mogul  emperors  of  Dejhi  set  such  a  high 
value  upon  it  on  account  of  its  superstitious  virtues  that 
they  had  it  cut,  jewelled,  and  enamelled  into  the  most 
exquisite  forms. 

In  Rome  the  martyr  weights,  as  relics  of  the  stone 
age,  aflbrd  a  curious  example  of  a  very  primitive  epoch 
projecting  far  into  a  highly-civilised  one.  Stone  weights 
continued  in  use  long  after  bronze  and  iron  implements 
were  constructed,  on  account  of  the  sacred  associations 
connected  with  them.  Weights  and  measures  were 
regarded  by  the  Romans  as  invested  with  a  peculiar 
religious  significance ;  the  stone  of  w^hich  the  weights 
were  composed  was  called  from  that  circumstance,  or 
because  of  the  occult  qualities  attributed  to  it,  lapis 
divinus  ;  and  therefore  there  was  a  deep-seated  prejudice, 
which  reached  down  to  the  days  of  the  highest  splendour 
of  the  Empire,  against  the  introduction  of  a  new  sub- 
stance. This  was  the  case  with  all  articles  used  in 
religious  ceremonies.  As  late  as  the  period  of  St. 
Paul's  residence  in  Rome,  and  at  the  time  of  the  first 
persecution  of  the  Christians,  ancient  pagan  rites  were 
celebrated  in  the  Forum,  in  which  the  use  of  metal  was 


250 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


from  the  East,  according  to  a  system  of  barter  similar  to 
that  which  still   exists  amongst  tribes   more  rude  and 
savage  than  the  Swiss  lake- dwellers.     Numerous  facts 
ot  a  like  tendency  are  on  record,  such  as  the  finding  in 
the   mounds    of  the   Mississippi  valley,   side    by  skie, 
obsidian  from  Mexico  and  mica  from  the  Alleghanies 
and  in  the  mounds    around    the    great  northern    lakes 
large  tropical  shells  two  thousand  miles  from  their  native 
habitat.      The  ancient  inhabitants  of  China  and  India 
found  at  a  very  early  period  that  they  possessed  in  their 
jade  rocks  a  very   valuable   material,  in  exchan-e    for 
which    they    could    get    what    they    wanted    from    the 
Western  races ;  while  these  Western  races  had  at  least 
one  article  which  they  could  barter  for  the  much-prized 
jade  implements,  viz.   linen  cloth,  the  weaving  of  which 
was  practised  in  the  oldest  settlements,  hanks  of  unspun 
flax  and  thread,  nets  and    cloth  of   the  same  material 
having    been    found    not    unfrequcntly    in    the    lake 
dwellings. 

What  an  interesting  glimpse  into  the  far-off  past  does 
this  link  of  connection  between  the  East  and  the  West  give 
us  1     It  indicates  a  degree  of  civilisation  which  we  are 
not  accustomed  to  associate  with  these  primeval  times 
Archaeologists  are  of  opinion  that  the  race  who  inhabited 
Central  Europe  during  the  earlier  part  of  the  stone  age 
were  akm  to  the  modern  Laplanders.      The  people  of 
the  lake  dwellings,  however,  and  especially  those  who 
used   jade    implements,    who    replaced    them,    were    a 
superior  and  more  civilised  race.     The  evidence  of  the 
articles  which  they  used,  with  the  exception  of  jade  itself 
points  not  to  an  Asiatic  origin,  but  rather  to  a  connection 
with  the  shores  on  both   sides   of  the  Mediterranean. 
When  they  migrated  northwards  they  brought  with  them 
he  flax  and  the  cereals  of  Egypt,  and  introduced  with 
them   the    southern    weeds    which    grew   among    these 
cultivated  plants.      The  seeds  of  the  catch-fly  of  Crete 
which  does  not  grow  in  Switzerland  or  Germany,  have 
been  found  among  the  relics  of  the  earliest  of  the  lake 


VIII       HOLED  STONES  AND  MARTYR  WEIGHTS       251 

dwellings ;  while  the  familiar  corn  blue-bottle  of  our 
autumn  fields  was  first  brought  from  its  native  Sicily  by 
this  lacustrine  people  in  whose  cultivated  fields  it  grew 
as  a  weed,  and  by  them  spread  over  all  Western  and 
Northern  Europe.  Such  are  the  interesting  associations 
and  profound  problems  connected  with  the  material  of  the 
martyr  weights.  And  it  is  unique  in  this  respect,  that 
it  meets  us  as  far  back  as  the  first  traces  of  neolithic  man 
in  Central  Europe — nay,  farther  back  still,  in  the  palaeo- 
lithic flints  found  in  the  caves  near  Mentone  ;  and  that  it 
is  still  used  in  the  countries  where  it  is  found  for  a  great 
variety  of  useful  and  ornamental  purposes,  idols  being 
carved  out  of  it,  and  altars  adorned  with  its  semi-trans- 
parent olive-green  slabs.  The  inhabitants  of  the  South 
Sea  Islands  until  recently  used  it  for  their  stone  imple- 
ments in  the  same  way  that  the  ancient  lake  dwellers 
did ;  and  the  Mogul  emperors  of  Dejhi  set  such  a  high 
value  upon  it  on  account  of  its  superstitious  virtues  that 
they  had  it  cut,  jewelled,  and  enamelled  into  the  most 
exquisite  forms. 

In  Rome  the  martyr  weights,  as  relics  of  the  stone 
age,  afford  a  curious  example  of  a  very  primitive  epoch 
projecting  far  into  a  highly-civilised  one.  Stone  weights 
continued  in  use  long  after  bronze  and  iron  implements 
were  constructed,  on  account  of  the  sacred  associations 
connected  with  them.  Weights  and  measures  were 
regarded  by  the  Romans  as  invested  with  a  peculiar 
religious  significance ;  the  stone  of  which  the  weights 
were  composed  was  called  from  that  circumstance,  or 
because  of  the  occult  qualities  attributed  to  it,  lapis 
divinus ;  and  therefore  there  was  a  deep-seated  prejudice, 
which  reached  down  to  the  days  of  the  highest  splendour 
of  the  Empire,  against  the  introduction  of  a  new  sub- 
stance. This  was  the  case  with  all  articles  used  in 
religious  ceremonies.  As  late  as  the  period  of  St. 
Paul's  residence  in  Rome,  and  at  the  time  of  the  first 
persecution  of  the  Christians,  ancient  pagan  rites  were 
celebrated  in  the  Forum,  in  which  the  use  of  metal  was 


252 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP.  VIII 


forbidden ;  and  only  stone  hatchets  could  be  employed 
in  slaughtering  animals,  and  only  earthen  vessels  used 
in  carrying  the  significant  parts  of  the  sacrifices  into  the 
temples.      Treaties  were   also  ratified  by  striking   the 
victim    offered    on   the   occasion  with  a  flint  hatchet. 
The  ancient  Egyptians,  although  using  iron  and  bronze 
for  other  objects,  invariably  used  stone  knives  in  pre- 
paring  bodies    for    the   process   of   embalming.      The 
sacrifices  which  the  Mexicans  offered  to  their  idols  at 
the  time  of  the  Spanish  conquest  were  cut  up  by  means 
of  knives  of  obsidian,  which  they  obtained  from  the  lavas 
of  their  volcanoes.     In  the  Bible  we  have  several  traces 
of  the  same  universal  custom.     The  Jews  seem  to  have 
performed  the  rite  of  circumcision  with  flint  implements, 
for  we  read  in  Exodus  that  Zipporah,  the  wife  of  Moses^ 
took  a  sharp  stone  for  that  purpose;  and  the  phrase  trans- 
lated "sharp  knives"  in  Joshua  v.  2— "At  that  time  the 
Lord  said  unto  Joshua,  Make  thee  sharp  knives,  and 
circumcise  again  the  children  of  Israel  the  second  time  " 
—should  be  translated,  as  in  the  marginal  reference, 
k7iives  of  flint.     To  the  same  ancient  widespread  habit 
may  doubtless  be  referred  the  prohibition,  mentioned  in 
Exodus  and  Deuteronomy,  against  making  an  altar  in 
any  special   place  where  God  recorded   His   name,  of 
hewn  stone,  or  polluting  it  by  lifting  up  any  iron  tool 
upon  it.     So  strong  is  the  conservative  instinct  in  religion 
that  to  this  very  day  the  enlightened  Brahmin  of  India 
will  not  use  ordinary  fire  for  sacred  purposes,  will  not 
procure  a  fresh  spark  even  from  flint  and  steel,  but  re- 
verts to,  or  rather  continues  the  primitive  way  of  obtain- 
ing it  by  friction  with  a  wooden  drill.      Everywhere  in- 
novations in  religious  worship  are  resisted  with  more  or 
less  reason  or  prejudice.     The  instinct  is  universal,  and 
has  its  good  and  its  evil  side. 


J 


CHAPTER   IX 


ST.   ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


One  of  the  most  romantic  shrines  of  pilgrimage  in  Rome 
is  the  church  of  St  Onofrio.  It  is  situated  in  the  Traste- 
vere,  that  portion  of  the  city  beyond  the  Tiber  whose 
inhabitants  boast  of  their  pure  descent  from  the  ancient 
Romans.  A  steep  ascent  on  the  slope  of  the  Janiculum, 
through  a  somewhat  squalid  but  picturesque  street,  and 
terminating  in  a  series  of  broad  steps,  leads  up  to  it 
from  the  Porta  di  San  Spirito,  not  far  from  the  Vatican. 
The  ground  here  is  open  and  stretches  away,  free  from 
buildings,  to  the  walls  of  the  city.  The  church  has  a 
simple  old-fashioned  appearance;  its  roof,  walls,  and 
small  campanile  are  painted  with  the  rusty  gold  of  lichens 
that  have  sprung  from  the  kisses  of  four  centuries  of  rain 
and  sun.  It  was  erected  in  the  reign  of  Pope  Eugenius 
IV.  by  Nicolo  da  Forca  Palena,  an  ancestor  of  that 
Conte  di  Palena  who  was  a  great  friend  of  Torquato 
Tasso  at  Naples.  It  was  dedicated  to  the  Eg>'ptian 
hermit  Honuphrius,  who  for  sixty  years  lived  in  a  cave 
in  the  desert  of  Thebes,  without  seeing  a  human  being 
or  speaking  a  word,  consorting  with  birds  and  beasts,  and 
living  upon  roots  and  wild  herbs.  A  subtle  harmony  is 
felt  between  the  history  of  the  hermit  and  the  character 
of  this  building  raised  in  his  honour.  A  spot  more 
drowsy  and  secluded,  more  steeped  in  the  dreams  of  the 
older  ages,  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  whole  city.  In 
front  of  the  church  there  is  a  long,  narrow  portico,  sup- 


254 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


ported  by  eight  antique  columns  of  the  simplest  construc- 
tion, in  all  likelihood  borrowed  from  some  old  pagan 
temple.  Under  this  portico  is  a  beautiful  fresco  of  the 
Madonna  and  Child  by  Domenichino.  To  the  right  are 
three  lunettes,  which  contain  paintings  by  the  same  great 
master,  representing  the  Baptism,  Temptation,  and  Fla- 
gellation of  St.  Jerome.  '  On  the  left  of  the  arcade  are 
portraits  of  the  most  prominent  saints  of  the  Hieronomyte 
order.  Exposed  to  the  weather  at  first,  these  invaluable 
frescoes  had  faded  into  mere  spectres  of  pictures ;  but 
they  are  now  protected  from  further  injury  by  glass. 

Usually   the  church   is   closed,  except  in   the  early 
morning,  and  visitors  are  admitted  by  the  custode  on 
ringing  a  door  bell  under  the  portico.     The  interior  is 
dark  and  solemn,  with  much  less  gilding  and  meretricious 
ornament  than  is  usual  in  Roman  churches.      It  contains, 
in  the  side  chapels,  many  objects  of  interest;  frescoes 
and  altar-pieces  by  Annibale  Caracci,  Pinturicchio,  and 
Peruzzi ;  and  splendid  sepulchral  monuments.     Of  the 
last  the  most  conspicuous  are  the  marble  tomb  of  Ales- 
sandro  Guidi,  the  Italian  lyric  poet,  who  died  in  1712  ; 
and  the  simple  cenotaph  in  the  last  chapel  on  the  left  of 
one  of  the  titular  cardinals  of  the  church,  who  died  in 
1849,  the  celebrated  linguist  Mezzofante.     But  the  tomb 
upon  which  the  visitor  will  gaze  with  deepest  interest  is 
that  of  Torquato  Tasso,  who  died  in  the  adjacent  mona- 
stery in  1595.     The  chapel  of  St.  Jerome,  in  which  it  is 
situated,  the  first  on  the  left  as  you  enter,  was  restored 
by  public  subscription  in  1857,  in  a  manner  which  does 
not  reflect  much  credit  upon  the  artistic  taste  of  modern 
Rome.     Previous  to  this  the  remains  of  the  poet  reposed 
for  two  hundred  years  in  an  obscure  part  of  the  church 
close  to  the  door,  indicated  by  a  tablet.     Above   this 
spot  there  is  a  portrait  of  the  time,  which  from  an  artistic 
point  of  view  is  very  poor,  but  is  said  to  be  a  good  like- 
ness.     Removed  on  the  anniversary  of  his  death,  about 
thirty  years  ago,  to  the  chapel  of  St  Jerome,  the  poet's 
remains  are  now  covered  by  a  huge  marble  monument 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


255 


in  the  cinque-cento  style,  adorned  by  a  bas-relief  of  his 
funeral  and  a  statue  of  him  by  Fabris.  Whatever  may 
be  said  regarding  the  artistic  merits  of  this  monument,  no 
one  who  has  read  the  poet's  immortal  epic,  and  is 
conversant  with  the  sad  incidents  of  his  life,  can  stand 
on  the  spot  without  being  deeply  moved. 

Connected  with  the  church  is  a  monastery  dedicated 
to  St.  Jerome.  In  one  of  the  upper  corridors  is  a 
beautiful  arched  fresco  of  the  Madonna  and  Child,  by 
Leonardo  da  Vinci,  with  the  donor  of  the  picture  in 
profile  kneeling  before  her.  The  picture  is  surrounded 
by  a  frame  of  fruit  and  flowers  on  an  enamelled  ground. 
The  soft,  tender  features  of  the  infant  Jesus,  and  the 
quiet  dignity  and  grace  of  the  smiling  Madonna,  are  so 
characteristic  of  the  style  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci  that  the 
picture  would  be  at  once  referred  to  him  by  one  who  did 
not  know  its  origin.  The  chamber  where  Tasso  spent 
the  last  days  of  his  life  is  on  the  upper  floor,  and  is  the 
most  conveniently  situated  in  the  whole  building.  It 
is  left  very  much  in  the  same  state  as  when  he  lived  in 
it.  The  walls  and  ceiling  are  bare  and  whitewashed, 
without  any  decoration.  Here  and  there  are  several 
pale  marks,  indicating  the  places  of  objects  that  had 
been  removed.  In  one  part  is  painted  on  the  plaster  a 
false  door  partially  open,  behind  which  is  seen  the  figure 
of  Tasso  about  to  enter ;  but  every  person  of  good  taste 
must  condemn  the  melodramatic  exhibition,  and  wish  that 
he  could  obliterate  it  wuth  a  daub  of  whitewash.  The 
custode  directed  my  attention  to  it  with  an  air  of  great 
admiration,  and  could  not  understand  the  scowl  with 
which  I  turned  away  my  face.  There  are  several  most 
interesting  relics  of  Tasso  preserved  in  this  chamber — his 
table,  with  an  inkstand  of  wood  ;  his  great  chair  covered 
with  Cordova  leather,  very  aged  and  worn-looking ;  the 
belt  which  he  wore ;  a  small  German  cabinet ;  a  large 
China  bowl,  evidently  an  heirloom ;  a  metal  crucifix  of 
singular  workmanship,  given  to  him  by  Pope  Clement 
VIII.,  which  soothed  his  dying  moments ;  several  of  his 


256 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


257 


letters,  and  an  autograph  copy  of  verses.  In  one  corner 
is  the  leaden  coffin,  much  corroded,  in  which  his  remains 
were  originally  deposited.  On  the  table  is  a  mask  in 
reddish  wax  moulded  from  the  dead  face  of  the  poet,  and 
placed  upon  a  plaster  bust — a  most  fantastic  combination. 
From  this  mask,  which  is  an  undoubted  original,  numer- 
ous copies  have  been  taken,  which  are  scattered  through- 
out Europe.       It  is  in  consequence  somewhat  effaced, 

but  it  still  shows  the  characteristic  features  of  the  poet 

the  purity  of  the  profile,  the  fineness  of  the  mouth,  and 
the  spiritual  beauty  and  fascinating  expression  of  the 
whole  face.  But  the  incoherence  of  the  adaptation  makes 
it  painful  to  think  that  this  is  the  best  representation  of 
the  poet  we  possess. 

The  extensive  garden  behind  the  convent  combines 
a  considerable  variety  of  natural  features.  The  monks 
grow  large  quantities  of  lettuce  and  fennochio;  and 
interspersed  among  the  beds  of  vegetables  are  orange  and 
other  fruit  trees,  and  little  trellises  of  cane,  wreathed  with 
vines.  A  large  tank  is  supplied  with  water  from  a  spring 
whose  murmur  gives  a  feehng  of  animation  to  the  spot. 
The  garden  rises  at  the  end  into  broken  elevated  ground 
showing  the  native  rock  through  its  grassy  sides.  A  row 
of  tall  old  cypresses  crowns  the  ridge — their  fluted  trunks 
gray  with  lichen-stains,  and  their  deep  green  spires  of 
foliage  forming  harp-strings  on  which  the  evening  winds 
discourse  solemn  music,  as  if  the  spirit  of  the  poet  haunted 
them  still.  On  one  side  are  the  picturesque  ruins  of  a 
shrine  overarching  a  fountain,  now  dry  and  choked  up 
with  weeds,  and  fringed  with  ferns.  Cyclamens — called 
by  the  Italians  viola  pazze,  "  mad  violets  " — grow  on  its 
margin  in  glowing  masses ;  sweet-scented  violets  in  pro- 
fusion perfume  all  the  air  ;  and  a  few  Judas-trees,  loaded 
with  crimson  blossoms,  without  a  single  leaf  to  relieve 
the  gorgeous  colour,  serve  as  an  admirable  background, 
almost  blending  with  the  clouds  on  the  low  horizon.  On 
the  other  side  the  hill  slopes  down  in  a  series  of  terraces 
to   the  crowded  streets  of  the  Trastevere,   forming  a 


t 


spacious  out-door  amphitheatre,  in  which  the  Arcadian 
Academy  of  Rome  used  to  hold  its  meetings  during  the 
summer  months,  and  where  St.  Filippo  Neri  was  wont  to 
give  those  half-dramatic  musical  entertainments  which, 
originating  in  the  oratory  of  the  religious  community 
established  by  him,  are  now  known  throughout  the  world 
as  oratorios.  Between  these  two  objects  still  stands  the 
large  torso  of  a  tree  which  bears  the  name  of  "  Tasso's 
oak,"  because  the  poet's  favourite  seat  was  under  its 
shadow.  It  suffered  much  from  the  violence  of  a  thunder- 
storm in  1842,  but  numerous  branches  have  since 
sprouted  from  the  old  trunk,  and  it  now  affords  a  capa- 
cious shade  from  the  noonday  heat.  It  is  a  variety  of 
the  Valonia  oak,  with  delicate,  downy,  pale-green  leaves, 
much  serrated,  and  contrasts  beautifully  with  the  dark 
green  spires  of  the  cypresses  behind.  The  leaves  at  the 
time  of  my  visit  had  but  recently  unfolded,  and  exhibited 
all  the  delicacy  of  tint  and  perfection  of  outline  so 
characteristic  of  young  foliage.  The  garden  was  in  the 
first  fresh  flush  of  spring — that  idyllic  season  which,  in 
Italy  more  than  in  any  other  land,  realises  the  glow^ing 
descriptions  of  the  poets.  Plucking  a  leafy  twig  from 
the  branches  and  a  gray  lichen  from  the  trunk  as  me- 
mentoes of  the  place,  I  sat  down  on  the  mossy  bole,  and 
tried  to  bring  back  in  'imagination  the  haunted  past. 
Nature  was  renewing  her  old  life ;  the  same  flowers  still 
covered  the  earth  with  their  divine  frescoes  ;  but  where 
was  he  whose  spirit  informed  all  the  beauty  and  translated 
its  mystic  language  into  human  words  ?  The  permanency 
of  nature  and  the  vanity  of  human  life  seemed  here  to 
acquire  new  significance. 

The  spot  on  which  I  sat  commands  one  of  the  finest 
views  of  Rome  and  the  surrounding  country.  Down  below 
to  the  left  is  the  enormous  group  of  buildings  connected 
with  St  Peter's  and  the  Vatican,  whose  yellow  travertine 
glows  in  the  afternoon  sun  like  dead  gold.  Beyond  rise 
the  steep  green  slopes  of  Monte  Mario,  with  vineyards 
and  olive-groves  nestling  in  its  warm  folds,  crowned  with 

s 


258 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IZ 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


the  Villa  Mellini  beside  the  "  Turner  pine,"  a  familiar 
object  m  many  of  the  great  artist's  pictures.     Stretching 
away  m  the  direction  of  the  old  diligence  road   from 
Florence  is  a  succession  of  gentle  ridges  and  bluffs  of 
volcanic  rock  covered  with  brushwood,  among  which  you 
can  trace  the  bold  headland  of  the  citadel  of  Fidenaj, 
and  the  green  lonely  site  of  Antemnre,  and  the  plateau 
on  which  are  the  scanty  remains  of  the  almost  mythical 
Etruscan  city  of  Veii,  the  lYoy  of  Italy.     The  view  in 
this  direction  is  bounded  by  the  advanced  guard  of  the 
Sabine  range,  the  blue  peak  of  Soracte  looking,  as  Lord 
Byron  graphically  says,  like  the  crest  of  a  billow  about  to 
break.     In  front,  at  your  feet,  is  the  city,  broken  up  into 
the  most  picturesque  masses  by  the  irregularity  of  the 
ground;  here  and  there  a  brighter  light  glistening  on 
some  stately  campanile  or  cupola,  and  flashing  back  from 
the  graceful  columns  of  Trajan  and  Antonine.       The 
Tiber  flows  between  you  and  that  wilderness  of  reddish- 
brown  roofs  cleaving  the  city  in  twain.    For  a  brief  space 
you  see  it  on  both  sides  of  the  Bridge  of  Hadrian,  over- 
looked by  the  gloomy  mass  of  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo, 
and  then  it  hides  itself  under  the  shadow  of  the  Aventine 
Hill,  and  at  last  emerges  beyond  the  walls,  to  pursue  its 
desolate  way   to   the   sea   through   one   of  the   saddest 
tracts  of  country  in  all  the  world.      Away  to  the  right, 
where  the  mass  of  modern  buildings  ceases,  the  great 
shattered  circle  of  the  Colosseum  stands  up  against  the 
sky,  indicating  by  its  presence  where  lie,  unseen  from 
this  point  of  view,  the  ruins  of  the  palaces  of  the  Caesars 
and  the  Forum.     Beyond  the   city  stretches  away  the 
undulating  bosom  of  the  Campagna,  bathed  in  a  misty 
azure  light ;  bridged  over  by  the  weird,  endless  arches 
of  the  Claudian  aqueduct,  throwing  long  shadows  before 
them  m  the  westering  sun.      Worthy  framework  for  such 
a  picture,  the  noble  semicircle  of  the  Sabine  Hills  rises  on 
the  horizon  to  the  left,  terminating  in  the  grand  rugged 
peak  of  IMonte  Gennaro,  whose  every  cliff  and  scar  are 
distinctly  visible,  and  concealing  in  its  bosom  the  romantic 


259 


waterfalls  of  Tivoli  and  the  lone  ancestral  farm  of  Horace. 
On  the  right  the  crested  Alban  heights  form  the  boundary, 
crowned  on  the  summit  with  the  white  convent  of  Monte 
Cavo — the  ancient  temple  of  Jupiter  Latialis,  up  to 
which  the  Roman  consuls  came  to  triumph  when  the 
Latin  States  were  merged  in  the  Roman  Commonwealth 
— and  bearing  on  their  shoulders  the  sparkling,  gem-like 
towns  of  Frascati  and  Albano,  with  their  thrilling  memories 
of  Cicero  and  Pompey ;  the  whole  range  melting  away 
into  the  blue  vault  of  heaven  in  delicate  gradations  of 
pale  pink  and  purple.  In  the  wide  gap  between  these 
ranges  of  hills — beyond  the  stone  pines  and  ilex  groves 
of  Praeneste — the  far  perspective  is  closed  by  a  glorious 
vision  of  the  snow-crowned  mountains  of  the  Abruzzi, 
giving  an  air  of  alpine  grandeur  to  the  view.  And  all 
this  vast  and  varied  landscape,  comprehending  all  glories 
of  nature  and  art,  all  zones  and  climates,  from  the  tropical 
aloes  and  palms  of  the  Pincian  Hill  to  the  arctic  snows  of 
the  Apennines,  is  seen  through  air  that  acts  upon  the 
spirits  like  wine,  and  gives  the  ideal  beauty  of  a  picture 
to  the  meanest  things. 

Italian  poets  share  in  the  wonderful  charm  that 
belongs  to  everything  connected  with  their  lovely  land. 
They  are  seen,  like  the  early  Tuscan  paintings,  against 
a  golden  background  of  romance.  Petrarch,  Dante, 
Ariosto,  invested  with  this  magic  light,  are  themselves 
more  attractive  even  than  their  poetic  creations.  But 
Torquato  Tasso,  perhaps,  more  than  them  all,  appeals 
to  our  deepest  feelings.  No  sadder  or  more  romantic 
life  than  his  can  be  found  in  the  annals  of  literature. 
He  was  one  of  those  "infanti  perduti"  to  whom  life 
was  one  long  avenue  of  darkened  days.  In  his  tem- 
perament, in  the  character  of  his  genius,  and  in  the 
story  of  his  life,  we  can  discern  striking  features  of  re- 
semblance between  him  and  the  wayward,  sorrowful 
Rousseau.  Hercules,  according  to  the  old  fable,  "was 
afflicted  with  madness  as  a  punishment  for  his  being 
so  near  the  gods ; "  and  the  imaginativeness  of  a  brain 


258 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


the  Villa  Mellini  beside  the  "  Turner  pine,"  a  familiar 
object  in  many  of  the  great  artist's  pictures.     Stretching 
away  in  the  direction  of  the  old  diligence  road   from 
Florence  is  a  succession  of  gentle  ridges  and  bluffs  of 
volcanic  rock  covered  with  brushwood,  among  which  you 
can  trace  the  bold  headland  of  the  citadel  of  Fidense, 
and  the  green  lonely  site  of  Antemnae,  and  the  plateau 
on  which  are  the  scanty  remains  of  the  almost  mythical 
Etruscan  city  of  Veii,  the  l>oy  of  Italy.      The  view  in 
this  direction  is  bounded  by  the  advanced  guard  of  the 
Sabine  range,  the  blue  peak  of  Soracte  looking,  as  Lord 
Byron  graphically  says,  Hke  the  crest  of  a  billow  about  to 
break.     In  front,  at  your  feet,  is  the  city,  broken  up  into 
the  most  picturesque  masses  by  the  irregularity  of  the 
ground ;  here  and  there  a  brighter  light  glistening  on 
some  stately  campanile  or  cupola,  and  flashing  back  from 
the  graceful  columns  of  Trajan  and  Antonine.       The 
Tiber  flows  between  you  and  that  wilderness  of  reddish- 
brown  roofs  cleaving  the  city  in  twain.    For  a  brief  space 
you  see  it  on  both  sides  of  the  Bridge  of  Hadrian,  over- 
looked by  the  gloomy  mass  of  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo, 
and  then  it  hides  itself  under  the  shadow  of  the  Aventine 
Hill,  and  at  last  emerges  beyond  the  walls,  to  pursue  its 
desolate  way  to  the   sea  through   one   of  the  saddest 
tracts  of  country  in  all  the  world.      Away  to  the  right, 
where  the  mass  of  modern  buildings  ceases,  the  great 
shattered  circle  of  the  Colosseum  stands  up  against  the 
sky,  indicating  by  its  presence  where  lie,  unseen  from 
this  point  of  view,  the  ruins  of  the  palaces  of  the  Caesars 
and  the  Forum.     Beyond  the   city  stretches  away  the 
undulating  bosom  of  the  Campagna,  bathed  in  a  misty 
azure  light ;  bridged  over  by  the  weird,  endless  arches 
of  the  Claudian  aqueduct,  throwing  long  shadows  before 
them  in  the  westering  sun.     Worthy  framework  for  such 
a  picture,  the  noble  semicircle  of  the  Sabine  Hills  rises  on 
the  horizon  to  the  left,  terminating  in  the  grand  rugged 
peak  of  Monte  Gennaro,  whose  every  cliff  and  scar  are 
distinctly  visible,  and  concealing  in  its  bosom  the  romantic 


XX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


259 


waterfalls  of  Tivoli  and  the  lone  ancestral  farm  of  Horace. 
On  the  right  the  crested  Alban  heights  form  the  boundary, 
crowned  on  the  summit  with  the  white  convent  of  Monte 
Cavo — the  ancient  temple  of  Jupiter  Latialis,  up  to 
which  the  Roman  consuls  came  to  triumph  when  the 
Latin  States  were  merged  in  the  Roman  Commonwealth 
— and  bearing  on  their  shoulders  the  sparkling,  gem-like 
towns  of  Frascati  and  Albano,  with  their  thrilling  memories 
of  Cicero  and  Pompey ;  the  whole  range  melting  away 
into  the  blue  vault  of  heaven  in  delicate  gradations  of 
pale  pink  and  purple.  In  the  wide  gap  between  these 
ranges  of  hills — beyond  the  stone  pines  and  ilex  groves 
of  Praeneste — the  far  perspective  is  closed  by  a  glorious 
vision  of  the  snow-crowned  mountains  of  the  Abruzzi, 
giving  an  air  of  alpine  grandeur  to  the  view.  And  all 
this  vast  and  varied  landscape,  comprehending  all  glories 
of  nature  and  art,  all  zones  and  climates,  from  the  tropical 
aloes  and  palms  of  the  Pincian  Hill  to  the  arctic  snows  of 
the  Apennines,  is  seen  through  air  that  acts  upon  the 
spirits  like  wine,  and  gives  the  ideal  beauty  of  a  picture 
to  the  meanest  things. 

Italian  poets  share  in  the  wonderful  charm  that 
belongs  to  everything  connected  with  their  lovely  land. 
They  are  seen,  like  the  early  Tuscan  paintings,  against 
a  golden  background  of  romance.  Petrarch,  Dante, 
Ariosto,  invested  with  this  magic  light,  are  themselves 
more  attractive  even  than  their  poetic  creations.  But 
Torquato  Tasso,  perhaps,  more  than  them  all,  appeals 
to  our  deepest  feelings.  No  sadder  or  more  romantic 
life  than  his  can  be  found  in  the  annals  of  literature. 
He  was  one  of  those  "infanti  perduti"  to  whom  life 
was  one  long  avenue  of  darkened  days.  In  his  tem- 
perament, in  the  character  of  his  genius,  and  in  the 
story  of  his  life,  we  can  discern  striking  features  of  re- 
semblance between  him  and  the  wayward,  sorrowful 
Rousseau.  Hercules,  according  to  the  old  fable,  *'was 
afflicted  with  madness  as  a  punishment  for  his  being 
so  near  the  gods ; "  and  the  imaginativeness  of  a  brain 


26o 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


which  had  in  it  a  fibre  of  insanity,  near  which  genius 
often  perilously  lies,  may  be  supposed  to  account 
for  much  that  is  strange  and  sad  in  his  career.  The 
place  of  his  birth  was  a  fit  cradle  for  a  poet.  On  the 
edge  of  a  bold  cliff,  overlooking  the  sea  at  Sorrento, 
is  the  Hotel  Tasso,  known  to  every  traveller  in  that 
region.  Here,  according  to  the  voice  of  tradition,  the 
immortal  poet  was  born  on  the  nth  of  March  1544, 
eleven  years  after  the  death  of  Ariosto.  It  is  said  that 
the  identical  chamber  in  which  the  event  took  place 
has  since  disappeared,  owing  to  the  portion  of  rock  on 
which  it  stood  having  been  undermined  by  the  sea  ;  and, 
as  if  to  give  countenance  to  this,  some  of  the  existing 
apartments  are  perilously  propped  up  on  the  very  edge 
of  the  cliff  by  buttresses,  which,  giving  way,  would  hurl 
the  superstructure  into  the  abyss.  The  original  building 
stood  on  the  site  of  an  ancient  temple ;  and  it  is  prob- 
able that,  with  the  exception  of  one  of  the  bedrooms, 
which  is  said  to  have  been  Tasso's  cabinet,  the  edifice 
retains  none  of  the  features  which  it  possessed  in  the 
days  of  the  poet. 

But  whatever  changes  may  have  taken  place  in  the 
human  habitation,  the  scenes  of  Nature  around,  from 
which  he  drew  the  inspirations  of  his  youthful  genius, 
remain  unchanged.  Every  feature  of  landscape  loveli- 
ness is  focussed  in  that  matchless  panorama.  Behind 
is  a  range  of  wild  mountains,  whose  many-shaped  peaks 
and  crags,  clad  with  pine  and  olive,  assume,  as  the  day 
wears  on,  the  golden  and  purple  hues  of  the  sky — 
sloping  down  into  the  midst  of  vineyards  and  groves  of 
orange,  myrtle,  and  all  the  luxuriant  verdure  which  the 
warm  sun  of  the  South  calls  forth,  out  of  which  gleam 
at  frequent  intervals  picturesque  villages  and  farms, 
which  seem  more  the  creation  of  Nature  than  of  Art. 
In  front  is  a  glorious  view  of  the  Bay  of  Naples,  with 
the  enchanted  isles  of  Capri  and  Ischia  sleeping  on  its 
bosom,  and  the  reflected  images  of  domes  and  palaces 
all  along  its  curving  shores  "charming  its  blue  waters;" 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


261 


while   dominating   the    whole   horizon    are    the    snowy 
mountains    of  Campania,   broken    by  the  dark   purple 
mass  of  Vesuvius,  rising  up  with  gradual  slope   to  its 
rounded  cone,  over  which  rests  continually  a  column  of 
flame  or   smoke,   "stimulating  the   imagination    by  its 
mystery  and  terror."     Apart  from  its  associations,  that 
landscape  would  have  been  one  to  gaze  on  entranced, 
and   to  dream  of  for   years   afterwards.       But   with   its 
countless  memories  of  all  that  is  greatest  and  saddest  in 
human   history  clinging  to  almost  every  object,   it  is 
indeed  one  of  the  most  impressive  in  the  world.     The 
land  is  the  land  of  Magna  Graecia.     The  sea  is  the  sea 
of  Homer  and  Pindar.     Near  at  hand  are  the  Isles  of 
the  Sirens,  who  allured  Ulysses  with  their  magic  song ; 
away   in   the   dim   distance   are  the  wonderful    Doric 
temples    of   Poestum,   which   go  back  to  the  mythical 
times  of  Jason  and  the  Argonauts.     On  the  opposite 
shore  is  the  tomb  of  Virgil,  on   the  threshold   of  the 
scenes  which  he  loved  to  describe, — the  Holy  Land  of 
Paganism,    the    Phlegraean    Fields,    with    the    terrible 
Avernus  and  the  Cave  of  the  Sibyl,  and  all  the  spots 
associated  with  the  Pagan  heaven  and  hell ;  and  in  the 
near  neighbourhood  Baiae,  with  its  awful  memories  of 
Roman  luxury  and  cruelty,  and  Puteoli,  with  its  inspir- 
ing associations  of  the  Apostle  Paul's  visit,  and  the  intro- 
duction of  Christianity  into  Italy.     Meet  nurse  for  any 
poetic  child,  the  place  of  his  birth  was  peculiarly  so  for 
such  a  child  as  Tasso ;  and  we  can  detect  in  the  subjects 
of  his  Muse  in  after  years,  the  very  themes  which  such 
a  region  would  naturally  have  suggested  and  inspired. 

The  age  in  which  he  was  born  was  also  eminently 
favourable  for  the  development  of  the  poetic  faculty. 
By  the  wonderful  discoveries  of  the  starry  Galileo,  man's 
intellectual  vision  was  infinitely  extended,  and  the  great 
fundamental  idea  of  modern  astronomy — infinite  space 
peopled  with  worlds  like  our  own — was  for  the  first  time 
realised.  It  was  an  era  of  maritime  enterprise;  the 
world  was  circumnavigated,  and  new  ideas  streamed  in 


262 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


263 


from  each  newly-visited  region.  It  was  pre-eminently 
the  period  of  art.  Leonardo  da  Vinci  and  Raphael  had 
just  passed  away,  but  Michael  Angelo,  Titian,  Tintoretto, 
and  Paul  Veronese  were  still  living,  freeing  men's 
spirits  by  the  productions  of  their  pencil  from  formal 
fancies  and  conventional  fetters,  and  sending  them  back 
to  the  fresh  teaching  of  Nature.  The  art  of  printing 
was  giving  a  new  birth  to  letters,  and  the  reformation  of 
religion  a  new  growth  to  human  thought.  A  new  power 
had  descended  into  the  stagnant  waters  of  European  life, 
and  imparted  to  them  a  wonderful  energy.  Along  with 
the  revival  of  classical  learning  and  the  general  quicken- 
ing of  men's  minds,  there  was  blended  in  the  South  of 
Europe  a  lingering  love  of  romance  and  chivalry,  and  a 
strong  religious  feeling,  which  had  arisen  out  of  the 
vigorous  reaction  of  Roman  Catholicism.  Italy  was  at 
this  time  the  acknowledged  parent  both  of  the  poetry 
and  the  general  literature  of  Europe ;  and  the  immortal 
works  of  Dante,  Petrarch,  and  Ariosto  had  formed  an 
almost  perfect  vernacular  language  in  which  the  creations 
of  genius  could  find  fittest  expression. 

But  Tasso  was  not  only  born  in  a  poetic  region  and 
in  a  poetic  age  :  he  was  also  the  son  of  a  poet.  He 
inherited  the  divine  faculty ;  he  was  cradled  in  poetry. 
His  father,  Bernardo,  though  he  has  been  put  into  the 
shade  by  his  more  gifted  son,  has  claims  of  his  own  to 
be  remembered  by  posterity.  He  occupies  a  high  place 
in  the  well-defined  group  of  the  chivalric  poets  of  Italy. 
His  principal  poem,  the  Amadigi,  which  was  composed 
about  the  time  of  his  son's  birth,  though  not  published 
for  sixteen  years  afterwards,  treats  in  a  hundred  cantos 
the  romantic  history  of  Amadis  of  Gaul,  and  deals  in 
giants,  enchanted  swords,  prodigious  wounds,  and 
miraculous  cures.  Various  estimates  of  this  long  poem 
have  been  formed  by  critics  from  the  favourable  analysis 
of  Gingu^ne  to  the  severe  censure  of  Sismondi.  But 
in  spite  of  its  lack  of  dramatic  power,  and  the  monotony 
of  its  imagery,  the  heat  of  his  genius  crystallising  only  a 


> 


part   of  the   substance  of  his  work,   there  can  be  no 
question  that  the  poem  is  distinguished  by   a  certain 
gravity  and  elevation  of  sentiment,  which  places  it  high 
above  the  romances  of  the  older  school,  and  brings  it 
near  to  the  dignity  of  epic  poetry.     In  this  respect  the 
Amadigi  may  be  said  to  form  an  interesting  transition 
from  the  irregular  romance  of  Ariosto  to  the  symmetrical 
epic  of  his  own  son.     The  son's  poetic  path  was  thus 
prepared,  and  the  mould  in  which  his  immortal  work 
was  cast  was  formed  by  his  father.     The  fortunes   of 
the  two  poets  read  remarkably  alike.     They  are  marked 
by  the  same  extraordinary  vicissitudes,  and  the  same 
general  sadness  and  gloom. 

The  family  of  Tasso  belonged  to  Bergamo,   in  the 
north  of  Italy,  a  region  which  has  given  birth  to  several 
eminent  men,  among  others  to  Tiraboschi,  the  historian 
of  Italian  literature.     It  was  originally  noble,  and  had 
large  territorial   possessions.       One  ancestor,  Omodeo, 
who  lived  in  the  year  1290,  is  worthy  of  special  mention 
as  the  inventor  of  the  system  of  postal  communication, 
to  which  the  world  owes  so  much ;  and  hence  the  family 
arms  of  a  courier's  horn   and  a  badger's  skin— tasso 
being  the  Italian  for  badger— which  the  post-horses, 
down  to  within  fifty  years  ago,  wore  upon  their  harness. 
In  the  time  of  Bernardo,  however,  the  fortunes  of  the 
family  had  decayed,  and  the  early  days  of  the  poet  were 
passed   in  poverty.      Adopted  after  the    death   of  his 
parents  by  his  father's  brother,  the  Bishop  of  Recanati, 
he  was  placed  at  school,  where  he  soon  acquired  a  won- 
derful familiarity  with  the  Greek  and  Latin  authors,  then 
newly  restored  to  Europe.     Highly  cultivated,  refined, 
and  possessed  of  great  personal  beauty,  while  manifesting 
at  the  same  time  a  peculiar  talent  for  diplomacy,  Bernardo 
speedily  won  his  way  to  distinction.     His  first  work, 
which  was  a  collection  principally  of  love-poems,  cele- 
brating his  passion  for  the  beautiful  Genevra  Malatesta, 
who  belonged  to  the  same  family  as  the  ill-fated  Parasina 
of  Byron,  attracted  the  attention  of  the  reigning  Prince 


264 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


of  Salerno,  Ferrante  Sanseverino,  one  of  the  chief 
patrons  of  Hterature  in  Italy,  who  thereupon  engaged 
him  as  his  private  secretary.  At  the  court  of  this  prince 
he  met  Porzia  de'  Rossi,  a  lady  of  noble  birth,  who  was 
beautiful  and  accomplished,  and  possessed  what  was 
considered  in  those  days  a  large  fortune.  After  his 
marriage  with  this  lady  Bernardo  and  his  bride  retired 
to  a  villa  which  he  had  purchased  at  Sorrento,  where 
he  enjoyed  for  several  years  an  exceptional  share  of 
domestic  felicity,  his  wife  having  proved  a  most  devoted 
helpmeet  to  him. 

In  these  propitious  circumstances  the  infant  that  was 
destined  afterwards  to  confer  the  greatest  lustre  upon 
the  family  name  was  born.     His  father  was  absent  at 
the  time  with  the  Prince  of  Salerno,  who  had  joined  the 
Spanish  army  in  the  new  war  that  had  arisen  between 
Charles  V.  and  Francis  I. ;  a  war  whose  chivalrous  and 
inspiring  acts  the   Marquis  d'Azeglio  made  use  of  in 
1866   in   his  romance  of  history,  Fieraffiosca,   to  rouse 
again  a  spirit  of  independence  in  his  countrymen.     A 
friend  of  his   father,   therefore,   held   the  child  at   the 
baptismal  font,   in  the  cathedral  of  Sorrento,  where  he 
received  the  name  of  Torquato — a  name  which  his  elder 
brother,  who  lived  only  a  few  days,  had  previously  borne. 
The  treaty  of  Crepi,  which  concluded  the  war  between 
Charles  V.   and  Francis   L,  in  which   the   former  was 
victorious,  allowed  Bernardo  Tasso  to  return  home  with 
his  patron  ten  months  after  the  birth  of  his  son.     By 
this  treaty  the  French  king,  who  had  previously  assumed 
the  title  of  King  of  Naples,  resigned  all  claims  upon  that 
State,   and    the    inhabitants   were    henceforth   subjected 
entirely  to  the  dominion  of  the  Spanish  sovereigns  of 
the  house  of  Austria.      The  emperor,  Charles  V.,  ap- 
pointed  the  Marquis  de  Villafranca,   better   known  as 
Don  Pedro  de  Toledo,  to  be  Viceroy  of  Naples,  who, 
like  his  despotic  master,  carried  out  his  so-called  reforms 
with  a  high  hand,  and  interfered  with  the  personal  and 
domestic  affairs  of  the  inhabitants,  so  that  he  speedily 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


265 


roused  their  resentment.     Against  the  estabhshment  of 
the  Inquisition,  which  he  set  about  under  the  mask  of 
zeal  for  religion,  but  in  reality  for  the  intmiidation  of 
the  nobles,  the  whole  city  rose  up  in  violent  opposition. 
After  having  exhausted  itself  in  a  vain  struggle  with  the 
viceroy,  it  resolved  to  petition  the  emperor,  and  com- 
missioned the  Prince  of  Salerno  to  plead  its  cause  at 
the  Court  of  Nuremberg.     But  in  consequence  of  being 
forestalled  by  the  cunning  Don  Pedro,  the  prince,  when 
he  arrived,  found  the  case  prejudged,  and  all  his  argu- 
ments and  pleadings  were  of  no  avail.     Disgusted  with 
the  failure  of  his  errand,  with  the  coldness  of  his  reception, 
and  with  other  indignities  which  he  received  at  the  hands 
of  the  emperor  and  his  viceroy,  he  determined  to  aban- 
don  altogether   the   cause   of  Austria.      Repairing   to 
Venice,  he  publicly  gave  effect  to  his  decision ;  where- 
upon Don  Pedro,  too  glad  to  have  an  opportunity  of 
oppressing  his  personal  enemy,  declared  the  prmce  a  rebel, 
confiscated  his  estates,  and  seized  all  his  personal  pro- 
perty     In  the  misfortunes  of  his  patron  Bernardo  lasso 
shared     He  too  was  proscribed  as  a  rebel ;  his  property 
at  Salerno  was  seized,  and  his  wife  and  children  were 
transferred  by  the  viceroy's  orders  to  Naples,  where  her 
family  resided,  and  where,  under  their  cruel  treatment, 
instigated  by  the  viceroy,  she  was  deprived  of  her  fortune, 
and  virtually  held  a  prisoner  to  the  day  of  her  death. 

Such  were  the  dark  clouds  that,  after  a  brief  gleam 
of  the  brightest  prosperity,  hung  over  the  early  years  of 
Torquato  Tasso.  Deprived  of  the  care  of  a  father  ^^•ho 
followed  from  court  to  court  the  varied  fortunes  of  his 
benefactor,  and  in  the  company  of  a  mother  worse  than 
widowed,  dependent  upon  the  cold  and  niggardly 
charity  of  friends  who  were  either  too  timid  or  supersti- 
tious to  oppose  the  patron  of  the  Inquisition,  the  child 
grew  up  in  melancholy  sohtude,  like  an  etiolated  plant 
that  has  been  deprived  of  the  sunshine.  The  original 
sadness  and  sensitiveness  of  his  disposition  was  much 
increased  by  the  family  misfortunes.    In  his  seventh  year 


266 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


267 


he  was  sent  to  a  school  in  the  neighbourhood,  opened  by 
the  Jesuits,  who  were  at  this  time  beginning  to  exert  a 
powerful  influence  upon  society,  principally  on  account 
of  their  zeal  in  the  cause  of  education.      At  this  school 
he    remained    for    three    years,    acquiring   a  wonderful 
knowledge  of  Latin  and  Greek,  and  manifesting  such 
enthusiasm  in  his  studies  that  he  rose  long  before  day- 
break, and  was  so  impatient  to  get  to  school  that  his 
mother  was  often  obliged  to  send  him  away  in  the  dark 
with  a  lantern.      Here  he  showed  the  first  symptoms  of 
his  genius  for  poetry  and  rhetoric,  and  gave  public  testi- 
mony to  the  deep  religious  feeling  which  he  inherited 
from  his  parents,  and  which  had  been  so  carefully  culti- 
vated by  his  ecclesiastical  masters,  by  joining  the  com- 
munion of  the  Church.      In  his  tenth  year  his  father  left 
the  court  of  Henry  III.  of  France,  and  settled  in  Rome, 
where  he  had  apartments  assigned  him  in  the  immense 
palace  of  Cardinal  Hippolito  of  the  house  of  Ferrara. 
These  apartments  were  furnished  as  handsomely  as  his 
impoverished   resources  allowed,   in   the  hope   that   he 
might  have  his  wife  and  children  to  live  with  him.     But 
in  spite  of  all  his  efforts  and  entreaties  his  wife  was  not 
allowed  by  her  brothers  to  rejoin  him ;  while  his  own 
position  as  an  outlaw  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  enter 
the  kingdom  of  Naples  to  rescue  her.     The  only  con- 
cession he  could  get  from  the  authorities  was  permission 
for  her  to  enter  with  her  daughter  Cornelia  as  pensioners 
among  the  nuns  in  the  convent  of  San  Presto ;  and  no 
sooner  was  this  step  taken  than  her  friends  openly  seized 
her  dowry,  on  the  plea  that  it  would  otherwise  belong  to 
the  convent,  as   her  husband's   outlawry   cancelled   his 
claims  to  it.     Her  boy,  of  course,  could  not  enter  the 
convent  with  her ;  he  was  therefore  sent  to  his  father  in 
Rome.      The  separation  between  mother  and  son,  we 
are  told,  was  most  affecting.     To  her  it  was  the  climax 
of  her  trials ;  and,  bowed  down  beneath  the  weight  of 
her  accumulated  sufferings,  she  fell  an  easy  victim  to  an 
attack  of  fever,  which,  in  the  short  space  of  twenty-four 


IX 

hours,  ended  her  wretched  life.  Upon  Tasso  the  parting 
from  a  mother  whom  he  was  never  to  see  agam,  and 
whose  personal  qualities  and  grievous  trials  had  greatly 
endeared  her  to  him,  produced  an  impression  which  even 
the  great  troubles  of  his  after  life  could  never  efface. 

With    a    mind    richly    stored,    notwithstanding    his 
youthful    age,    with    classic   lore,    and    quickened   and 
made  sensitive  by  a  varied  and  sorrowful  career,  Tor- 
quato    Tasso   came  to    Rome.     The    first   occasion  of 
seeins  the  imperial  city  must   have  been  exciting  and 
awakening  in  a  high  degree  to  such  a  boy.     He  was 
leaving  behind  the  passive  simplicity  of  the  chiW   and 
had  already  a  keen  interest  in  the  things  ennobled  by 
history  and  cared  for  by  grown-up  men.     This  dawn  ot 
a  higher  consciousness  found  a  congenial  sphere  m  the 
city  of  the  soul.     With  what  absorbing  eagerness  his 
young   mind    would   be   drawn   to   the   study   of    the 
immortal  deeds,  which  were  the  inheritance  of  his  race 
on  the  very  spot  where  they  were  done.     He  would 
behold  with  his  eyes  the  glorious  things  of  which  he  had 
heard      There  would  be  much  that  would  shock  and 
disappoint  him  when  he  came  to  be   familiar  with  it. 
Many  of  the  ancient  monuments  had  been  destroyed; 
and  many  of  the  ancient  sites,  especially  the  Forum  and 
the  Palatine,  were  deserted  wastes  which  had  not  yet 
yielded  up  their  buried  treasures  of  art  to  the  pick  and 
spade  of  the  antiquarian.     The  ravages  inflicted  by  the 
ferocious  hordes  of  the  Constable  Bourbon  m  1527  had 
not  yet  been  obliterated  by  the  restorations  and  repairs 
undertaken  by  Pope  Paul  III.     The  city  had  lost  much 
of  its   ancient  glory,   and  had   not  yet    exchanged    its 
gloomy  medieval  aspect  for  that  of  modern  civilisation. 
But  in  spite  ot  every  drawback,  he  could  not  sufficiently 
admire  the  buildings  and  the  sites  which  bore  witness 
of  all  that  was  grandest  in  human  history.     Along  with 
a  young   relative,   Christopher  Tasso,   he  pursued  his 
classical  studies  in  the  midst  of  all  these  stimulating 
associations  under  the  tutorship  of  Maurizio  Cattaneo, 


ift 


268 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


269 


the  most  learned  master  in  Italy.     The  companionship 
of  a  youth  of  his  own  age  did  him  a  great  deal  of  good. 
It  satisfied  his  affections,  it  saved  him  from  the  loneli- 
ness to  which  his  father's  ill-health  at  the  time  would 
otherwise  have  consigned  him,  and  it  spurred  him  on  to 
a  healthful  exercise  of  his  mental  powers.     For  a  short 
time  he  led  a  comparatively  happy  life  in  Rome.     His 
father's   prospects   had  somewhat  improved.      Cardinal 
Caraffa,  who  was  a  personal  friend  of  his,  ascended  the 
pontifical  throne  under  the  name  of  Paul  IV.  ;  and  as 
they  were  on  the  same  political  side,  he  hoped  that  his 
fortunes  would  now  be  retrieved.      But  this  gleam  of 
prosperity    speedily    vanished.       The    imperial    enmity, 
which  had  been  the  cause  of  all  his  previous  misfortunes' 
continued  to  pursue  him  like  a  relentless  fate.     Philip 
II.  of  Spain  and  the  Pope  having  quarrelled,  the  for- 
midable  Duke  of  Alba,  the  new   Viceroy   of  Naples, 
invaded  the  Papal  States,  took   Ostia  and  Tivoli,  and 
threatened  Rome  itself.     With  extreme    difficulty  Ber- 
nardo Tasso  managed  to  make  his  escape  to  Ravenna, 
with  nothing  left  him  but  the  manuscript  of  his  Amadigl 
In  the  meantime  his  son  was  taken  to  his  relatives  at 
Bergamo.      In  this  city,  under  the  shadow  of  the  Alps, 
Torquato  remained  for  a  year  in  the  home  of  his  Roman 
schoolfellow.     The  inhabitants  have  ever  since  cherished 
with   pride  the  connection    of   the    Tassos    with    their 
town,    and    have    erected    a    splendid    monument    to 
Torquato  in  the  market-place.     The  exquisite  scenery 
in  the  neighbourhood  had  a  wonderful  effect  upon  the 
mind  of  the  youthful  poet.     It  put  the  finishing  touch 
to  his  varied  education.     The  snows  of  the  North  and 
the  fires  of  the  South,  the  wild  grandeur  of  the  mountains 
and  the  soft  beauty  of  the  sea,  the  solitudes  of  Nature 
where    only   the    effects    of    storm    and   sunshine    are 
chronicled,  and  the  crowded  scenes  of  the  most  inspiring 
events  in  human  history,  had  their  share  in  moulding 
his  temperament  and  colouring  his  poetry. 

From  Bergamo  Torquato  was  summoned  to  Pesaro, 


since  known  as  the  birthplace  of  Rossini  hence  called 
the  "Swan  of  Pesaro."     His  father  had  found  a  horne 
with  the  Duke  of  Urbino,  who  treated  him  with  the 
utmost  kindness.     In  the  Villa  Barachetto,  on  the  shores 
of  the  Adriatic,  surrounded  by  the  most  beautiful  scenery 
and  by  the  finest  treasures  of  art,  which  have  long  since 
been  transferred  to  Paris  and  Rome,  Bernardo  Tasso  at 
last  completed  his  Amadigi ;  while,  captivated  by  his 
grace  and   intelligence,  the  duke  made  Torquato  the 
companion    of  his    son,    Francesco    Maria     in    ad    his 
stud  es  and  amusements.     For  two  years  father  and  son 
enjoyed  in  this  place  a  grateful  repose  from  the  buffetings 
of   fortune.       But,    fired    by    ambition,    Bernardo    left 
Pesaro  for  Venice,  in  order  to  see  his  poem  through  the 
press  of  Aldus  Manutius ;  and  being  not  only  welcomed 
with  open  arms  by  his  literary  friends  in  that  city  but 
also  appointed  secretary  of  the  great  Venetian  Academy 
"  Delia  Fama,"  with  a  handsome  salary,  he  sent  for  his 
son,  took  a  house  in  a  good  situation,  and  resolved  to 
settle  down  in  the  place.     There  was  much  to  captivate 
the   imagination    of    the    youthful    Torquato    in    th  s 
wonderful  city  of  the  sea,   then  in  the  ^enith   of  its 
fame,  surpassing  all  the  capitals  of  t-nsalpme  W 
in  the  extent  of  its  commerce,  in  refinement  of  manners, 
and  in  the  cultivation   of  learning  and  the  arts.      Its 
romantic  situation,  its  weird  history,  its  splendid  palaces, 
its  silent  water-ways,  its  stirring  commerce,  its  inspiring 
arts,  must  have  kindled  all  the  enthusiasm  of  his  nature. 
But  he  did  not  yield  himself  up  to  the  siren  attractions 
of  the  place,   and  muse    in  idleness  upon   its   varied 
charms.     On   the  contrary,  the  time  that  he  spent  m 
Venice  was  the  busiest  of  his  life.     He  was  absorbed  in 
the  study  of  Dante  and  Petrarch ;  and  the  results  of  his 
devotion  may  still  be  seen  in  the  numerous  annotations 
in  his  handwriting  in  the  copies  of  these  poets  which 
belonged  to  him,  now  preserved  in  the  Vatican  Library 
in    Rome  and   the    Laurentian    Library    in    Florence. 
He  was  also  employed  by  his  father  in  transcribing  for 


270 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


the  press  considerable  portions  of  his  poetical  works;  and 
these  studies  and  exercises  were  of  much  use  to  him  in 
enabling  him  to  form  a  graphic  and  elegant  literary 
style.  His  own  compositions,  both  in  prose  and  verse, 
were  by  this  time  pretty  numerous,  though  nothing  of 
his  had  found  its  way  into  print  as  yet. 

His  father  saw  with  much  concern  the  development 
of  his  son's  genius.      Anxious   to   save  him  from   the 
trials  which  he  himself  had  experienced  in  his  literary 
career,  he  sent  him  to  the  University  of  Padua  to  study 
law,  which  he  thought  would  be  a  surer  provision  for 
his  future  life  than  a  devotion  to  the  Muses.     One  great 
branch  of  law,  that  which  relates  to  ecclesiastical  juris- 
prudence, has  always  been  much  esteemed  in  Italy,  and 
the  study  of  it,  in  many  instances,  has  paved  the  way  to 
high  honours.     Almost  all  the  eminent  poets  of  Italy, 
Petrarch,  Ariosto,  Marino,  Metastasio,  spent  their  earlier 
years  in  this  pursuit ;  but,  like  Ovid  and  our  own  Milton, 
their  nature  rebelled  against  the  bondage.     They  took 
greater  pleasure  in  the  study  of  the  laws  for  rhyme  than 
in  the  study  of  the  Pandects  of  Justinian  or  the  Decre- 
tals of  Isidore.     It  was  so  with  Tasso.     He  attended 
faithfully  the  lectures  of  Guido  Panciroli,  although  these 
were  not  compulsory,  and  waited  patiently  at  the  Univer- 
sity during  the  three  years  of  residence  which  is  required 
for  a  law  degree.     But  all  the  time  his  mind  was  occupied 
with  other  thoughts  than  those  connected  with  his  law 
studies.     Still,  uncongenial  as  they  must  have  been  to 
him,  he  could  not  have  attended  for  three  years  to  such 
studies  without  unconsciously  deriving  much  benefit  from 
them.      They  must    have    impressed    upon   him   those 
ideas  of  order  and  logical  arrangement  which  he  after- 
wards carried  out  in  his  writings,  and  which   separate 
them    so    markedly   from    the    confused,    inconsistent 
license  of  the  older  literature  of  Italy ;  and  he  could  not 
have   resided    in    the    birthplace    of   Livy,    in   constant 
association  with   the  highest   minds  of  the  time,  as  a 
member    of    a    University    then    the    most    famous    in 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


271 


Europe,  numbering  no  less  than  ten  thousand  students 
from  all  parts  of  the  world,  without  his  mtellectual  life 
being  greatly  quickened. 

During  ten  months  of  enthusiastic  work  he  produced 
his  first  great  poem,  which,  considering  his  age— for  he 
was  then  only  in  his  eighteenth  year— and  the  short  tmie 
occupied  in  its  composition,  is  one  of  the  most  remark- 
able efforts  of  genius.     He  called  his  poem  Rtnaldo, 
after  the  name  of  the  knight  whose  romantic  adventures 
it    celebrates— not    the    Rinaldo    of   the    Gcrusakmme 
Libcrata,  but  the  Paladin  of  whom  so  much  is  said  m 
the  poems  of  Boiardo  and  Ariosto,— and  dedicated  it  to 
Cardinal  Lewis  of  Este,  then  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guished patrons  of  Uterature  in   Italy.      It  contains  a 
beautiful  allusion  to  his  father's  genius  as  the  source  of 
his  own   inspiration.     It   abounds   in   the   supernatural 
incidents  and  personified   abstractions  characteristic  of 
the  romantic  school  of  poetry ;  and  though  Galileo  said 
of  it  that  it  reminded  him  of  a  picture  formed  of  mlaid 
work,  rather  than  of  a  painting  in  oil,  it  has  nevertheless 
a  unity   of  plot,   a  sustained   interest,   and   a   uniform 
elevation  of  style,  which   distinguishes  it  from  all  the 
poetry  of  the  period.     Our  own  Spenser  has  imbibed 
the  spirit  of  some  of  its  most  beautiful  passages ;  and 
several  striking  coincidences  between  his  Faerie  Queen 
and   the   Rinaldo   can   be   traced,   particularly   in    the 
account   of  the  lion   tamed  by  Clarillo,  and  the  well- 
known  incident  of  Una  and  the  lion  in  Spenser.     The 
poem    of  Rinaldo  will    always    be    read  with    interest, 
as   it  strikes   the   keynote    of  Tasso's  great    epic,   the 
Gerusalemvie  Liberata,   many   of  the  finest   fictions   of 
which  were  adopted  with  very  little  modification  from 
the  earUer  work.       His   letter   asking  his   father's   per- 
mission   to    publish    it    came    at    a    very    inopportune 
moment.     Bernardo  was  smarting  just  then  under  the 
disappointments  connected  with  the  reception  of  his  own 
poem,  the  Amadigi,     It  produced  little  impression  upon 
the  general   public;   the    copies   which   he  distributed 


272 


ROxMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


among  the   Italian  nobles  procured   him   nothing  but 
conventional    thanks    and     polite    praise;    while    the 
magnificent   edition   which   he   prepared    specially   for 
presentation  to  Philip  11.  of  Spain,  in  the  hope  that  he 
might  thereby   be  induced  to   interest   himself  in   the 
restoration  of  his   wife's   property  at   Naples,  was  not 
even    acknowledged.      Wounded   thus  in   his   deepest 
sensibilities,  and  bewailing  the  misfortunes  of  his  literary 
career,  we  need  not  wonder  that  he  should  have  sent  a 
reply   peremptorily    commanding    his    son    to    give    up 
poetry  and  stick  to  the  law.      The  young  poet  in  his 
distress  sought  the  intervention  of  some  of  his  father's 
literary  friends,  and  through  their  mediation  the  destiny 
of  Torquato  Tasso  and  of  Italian  poetry  was  accom- 
plished,  and  the  poem  of  Rinaldo  was  given  to  the 
world  through  the  renowned  press  of  the  Franceschi  of 
Venice.      No  sooner  was  it  published  than  it  achieved 
an   extraordinary   success,   for    Cervantes   had   not    yet 
made  this  class  of  fiction  for  ever  ridiculous. 

Notwithstanding  that  the  public  were  surfeited  with 
romantic  poetry,  the  merits  of  this  new  work,  constructed 
upon  different  principles  and  carried  out  in  an  original 
style,  were  such  that  the  literary  schools  were  carried  by 
storm,  and  the  young  Tasso,  or  Tassino,  as  he  was  now 
called  to  distinguish  him  from  his  father,  at  once  leapt 
mto  fame.     So  great  was  his  reputation,  that  the  newly- 
restored  University  of  Bologna  invited   him    to   reside 
there,  so  that  it  might  share  in  the  distinction  conferred 
by  his  name.      In  this  magnificent  seat  of  learning  he 
remained,  enjoying  the  advantage  of  literary  intercourse 
with  the  great  scholars  who  then  occupied  the  chairs  of 
the  University,  until  the  publication  of  some  anonymous 
pasquinades,  reflecting  severely  upon  the  leading  inhabit- 
ants, of  which  he  was  falsely  supposed  to  be  the  author 
In  his  absence  the  Government  officials  visited  his  rooms 
and  seized  his  papers.     The  sensitive  poet  regarded  this 
suspicion  as  a  stain  upon  his  honour,  and  the  outrage 
he  never  forgave.      Shaking  the  dust  from  his  shoes,  he 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


273 


departed  from  Bologna,  and  for  some  time  led  an  un- 
settled life,  enjoying  the  generous  hospitality  of  the 
nobles  whose  names  he  had  celebrated  in  his  Rinaldo. 
Returning  at  length  to  Padua,  where  he  engaged  in  the 
study  of  Aristotle  and  Plato,  and  delivered  three  dis- 
courses on  Heroic  Poetry  in  the  Academia  degli  Eterei, 
or  the  Ethereals— in  which  he  developed  the  whole 
theory  of  his  poetical  design— which  were  afterwards 
published,  the  office  of  Laureate  at  the  court  of  Ferrara 
was  offered  to  him  by  Cardinal  Lewis  of  Este,  to  whom, 
as  I  have  said,  he  had  dedicated  his  Rinaldo. 

Torquato  Tasso  was  now  in  the  full  bloom  of  open- 
ing manhood.      He  was  distinguished,  like  his  father, 
for  his  personal  beauty  and  grace,  with  a  high,  noble 
forehead,  deep  gray  melancholy  eyes,  regular   well-cut 
features,  and  hair  of  a  light  brown.     He  had  the  advan- 
tage of  all  the  culture  of  his  time.     His  manners  were 
refined  by  familiar  intercourse  with  the  highest  nobles 
of  the  land,  and  his  mind  richly  furnished,  not  only  with 
the  stores  of  classic  literature,  but  also  with  the  literary 
treasures  of  his  own  country ;  while  a  residence,  more 
or  less  prolonged,  in  the  most  famous  towns,  and  among 
the  most  romantic  scenes  of  Italy,   had  widened   his 
mental  horizon  and  expanded  his  sympathies.     He  had 
already  mounted  almost  to  the  highest  step  of  the  hter- 
ary  ladder.     Nothing  could  exceed  the  tokens  of  respect 
with  which  he  was  everywhere  received.     But,  in  spite 
of  all  these  advantages,  Tasso  was  now  beginning  to 
realise    the    shadows    that    accompany   even    the    most 
splendid  literary  career.      His  own  experience  was  now 
confirming  to  him  the  truth  of  what  his  father  had  often 
sought  to  impress  upon  his  mind,— that  the  favour  of 
princes  was  capricious,  and  that  a  life  of  dependence  at 
a  court  was  of  all  others  the  most  unsatisfactory.     Con- 
stitutionally disposed  to  melancholy,  irritable  and  sensi- 
tive to  the  last  degree,  he  brooded   over   the    fancied 
wrongs  and  slights  which  he  had  received ;    and  at  first 
he  was  disposed  to  accept  the  advice   of  his    father's 


274 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


friend,  the  well-known  Sperone,  who  strongly  dissuaded 
him  from  going  to  the  court  of  Ferrara,  painting  the 
nature  of  the  life  he  would  lead  there  in  the  most  for- 
bidding colours.  It  would  have  been  well  had  he 
listened  to  this  wise  counsel,  strengthened  as  it  was  by 
his  own  better  judgment ;  for  in  that  case  he  might 
have  been  spared  the  mortifications  which  made  the 
whole  of  his  after  life  one  continued  martyrdom.  But 
recovering  from  a  protracted  illness,  into  which  the 
agitation  of  his  spirits  threw  him,  when  on  a  visit  to  his 
father  at  the  court  of  the  Duke  of  Mantua,  he  passed 
from  the  depths  of  despondency  to  the  opposite  extreme 
of  eagerness,  and,  fired  by  ambition,  he  resolved  to 
enter  upon  the  path  to  distinction  which  now  opened 
before  him.  And  here  we  come  to  the  crisis  of  his  life. 
In  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  a  state  of 
things  existed  in  Italy  somewhat  similar  to  that  which 
existed  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland  in  earlier  times. 
Each  Highland  chief  maintained  an  independent  court, 
and  among  his  personal  retainers  .a  bard  who  should 
celebrate  his  deeds  was  considered  indispensable.  So 
was  it  with  the  princes  of  Italy.  In  their  train  was 
always  found  a  man  of  letters  whose  poetic  Muse  was 
dedicated  to  laureate  duties,  and  was  valued  in  propor- 
tion as  it  recorded  the  triumphs  of  the  protecting  court. 
For  this  patronage  of  art  and  letters  no  court  was  more 
distinguished  than  that  of  Ferrara. 

' '  Whoe'er  in  Italy  is  known  to  fame, 

This  lordly  home  as  frequent  guest  can  claim." 

The  family  of  Este  was  the  most  ancient  and  illustrious 
in  Italy.  The  house  of  Brunswick,  from  which  our 
own  royal  family  is  descended,  was  a  shoot  from  this 
parent  stock.  It  intermarried  with  the  principal  reign- 
ing families  of  Europe.  Leibnitz,  Muratori,  and  our 
own  great  historian,  Gibbon,  have  traced  the  lineage 
and  chronicled  the  family  incidents  of  this  ducal  house. 
Lucrezia  Borgia  and  the  Parasina  of  Byron  were  members 
of  it.      For  several  generations  the  men  and  women  were 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


275 


i 


remarkable  for  the  curious  contrasts  of  a  violent  character 
and  the  pursuits  of  the  arts  of  peace  which  they  dis- 
played. Poisonings,  assassinations,  adulteries,  imprison- 
ments for  life,  conspiracies,  were  by  no  means  un- 
common incidents  in  their  tragical  history.  And  yet 
under  their  government  Ferrara  became  the  first  really 
modern  city  in  Europe,  with  well-built  streets,  a  large 
population,  and  flourishing  trade,  attracting  wealthy 
settlers  from  all  parts  of  Italy.  Nearly  all  the  members 
of  the  reigning  house  were  distinguished  for  their 
personal  attractions  and  their  mental  capacities.  They 
were  also  notorious  for  their  love  of  display.  We  have 
books,  such  as  the  Antiquities  of  the  House  of  Este  by 
Muratori,  the  Chivalries  of  Ferrara^  the  Borseid,  and 
the  Hecatommiti  of  Giraldi,  which  were  written  almost  to 
order  for  the  purpose  of  gratifying  this  vanity,  Borso, 
the  first  duke,  caused  his  portrait  to  be  painted  in  a 
series  of  historical  representations  in  one  of  his  principal 
palaces ;  Hercules  I.  kept  the  anniversary  of  his  acces- 
sion to  the  throne  by  a  splendid  procession,  which  was 
compared  to  the  festival  of  Corpus  Christi ;  an  Order, 
which  had  nothing  in  common  with  medieval  chivalry, 
called  the  Order  of  the  Golden  Spur,  was  instituted  by 
his  court,  and  conferred  upon  those  who  reflected  lustre 
by  their  deeds  or  their  literary  gifts  upon  the  house  of 
Este ;  while,  to  crown  all,  we  read  at  this  day  on  the 
tower  of  the  cathedral  of  Ferrara  the  dedicatory  inscrip- 
tion beginning  with  "To  the  god  Hercules  H.,"  which 
the  complaisant  inhabitants  had  put  there, — an  apotheosis 
which  reminds  us  of  the  worst  slavery  of  imperial  Rome 
under  Caligula  and  Domitian.  Some  of  the  greatest 
names  of  Italy,  such  as  Petrarch,  Boiardo,  Ariosto,  the 
wonderful  prodigy  Olympia  Morata,  and  the  celebrated 
poetess  Vittoria  Colonna — the  friend  of  Michael  Angelo 
— were  connected  with  this  brilliant  court.  The  well- 
known  French  poet  Clement  Marot  fled  to  it  to  escape 
persecution  in  his  native  country.  Calvin  found  a  refuge 
there  for  some   months  under  the   assumed   name  of 


\\\ 


i 


276 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Charles  d'Heppeville,  during  which  he  converted  the 
duchess  to  the  reformed  faith.  The  father  of  Tasso 
visited  it  when  it  was  at  the  height  of  its  splendour  and 
renown.  Hercules  II.,  the  then  reigning  prince,  son  of 
Lucrezia  Borgia,  had  earned  a  great  reputation  for  his 
literary  works  and  patronage  of  the  fine  arts ;  and  his 
wife,  the  friend  of  Calvin,  the  youngest  daughter  of 
Louis  XII.  of  France,  was  even  more  remarkable  for 
her  talents,  being  equally  skilled  in  the  Latin  and  Greek 
languages.  This  renowned  couple  drew  around  them 
a  circle  of  the  most  accomplished  men  and  women  in 
Europe,  in  whose  congenial  society  Bernardo  Tasso 
spent  a  few  months  of  great  enjoyment,  delighting  all 
by  his  wit  and  social  qualities. 

But  notwithstanding  all  this  magnificence  and  love  of 
learning,  the  house  of  Este,  among  its  other  contradictory 
qualities,  was  distinguished  for  capriciousness  and  mean- 
ness. Even  Muratori,  their  ardent  panegyrist,  does  not 
attempt  to  conceal  this  blemish.  We  must  deduct  a 
good  deal  from  the  high-sounding  praise  which  the 
courtly  writers  of  Italy  bestowed  upon  this  house  for  its 
splendid  patronage  of  literature,  when  we  remember  that 
Ariosto,  who  passed  his  life  in  its  service,  was  treated  with 
niggardliness  and  contempt.  He  had  a  place  assigned 
him  among  the  musicians  and  jugglers,  and  was  regarded 
as  one  of  the  common  domestics  of  the  establishment. 
Guarini,  the  well-known  author  of  the  Pastor  Fido^ 
contemporary  with  Tasso,  met  with  much  indignity  in  the 
service  of  Alphonso  II.  ;  while  Panigarola  and  several 
other  distinguished  men  were  compelled  to  leave  the 
service  of  the  ducal  family  by  persecution.  Benvenuto 
Cellini,  who  resided  at  the  court  of  Ferrara  twenty-five 
years  before  Tasso,  gives  a  very  unfavourable  account 
of  the  avarice  and  rapacity  which  characterised  it ;  and 
Serassi,  the  biographer  of  Tasso,  remarks  that  the  court 
seems  to  have  been  extremely  dangerous,  especially  to 
literary  men.  It  was  not  therefore,  we  may  suppose, 
without  other  reasons  than  his  being  merely  a  Guelph, 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


277 


that  Dante  in  his  Iiifmio  placed  one  of  the  scions  of  the 
house  in  hell,  and  uniformly  regarded  the  family  with 
dislike.  Tasso  himself  was  destined  to  experience  both 
the  favour  and  the  hostility,  the  generosity  and  the 
neglect,  of  this  capricious  house. 

Ferrara  is  now  a  dull  sleepy  city  of  less  than  thirty 
thousand  inhabitants.  It  is  a  place  that  continues  to  exist 
not  because  of  its  vitality,  but  by  the  mere  force  of  habit. 
Its  broad  deserted  streets  and  decaying  palaces  He  silent 
and  sad  in  the  drowsy  noon  sunshine,  like  the  aisles  of  a 
September  forest.  But  in  the  days  of  Tasso  it  was  one 
of  the  gayest  cities  of  Italy,  which  looked  upon  itself  as 
the  centre  of  the  world,  and  all  beyond  as  mere  margin. 
It  was  always /'.f/rt',  always  carnival,  in  Ferrara  ;  and  when 
the  poet  came  to  it  in  his  twentieth  year,  on  the  last  day 
of  October  1565,  he  found  it  one  brilliant  theatre.  The 
reigning  duke,  Alphonso  II.,  had  just  been  married  to 
the  daughter  of  Ferdinand  I.,  Emperor  of  Austria ;  and 
this  splendid  alliance  was  celebrated  by  tournaments, 
balls,  feasts,  and  other  pageantry,  which  transcended 
everything  of  the  kind  that  had  previously  been  seen  in 
Italy,  with  the  exception,  perhaps,  of  the  fetes  connected 
with  the  marriage  of  Lucrezia  Borgia  to  his  grandfather. 
The  ardent  mind  of  the  poet,  it  need  hardly  be  said,  was 
completely  fascinated.  He  saw  himself  surrounded  daily 
with  all  the  splendours  of  chivalry,  and  lived  in  the  midst 
of  scenes  such  as  haunt  the  dreams  of  poets  and  inspire 
the  pages  of  romance.  Goethe,  in  his  Torquato  Tasso, 
an  exquisite  poem,  it  may  be  said,  but  wanting  in 
dramatic  action,  gives  a  vivid  picture  of  the  poet's  life  at 
the  court  of  Ferrara,  which  bore  some  resemblance  to  his 
own  at  the  court  of  Weimar. 

Two  sisters  of  the  reigning  prince  lived  in  the  palace, 
and  by  their  beauty  and  accomplishments  imparted  to  the 
court  an  air  of  great  refinement.  The  younger,  the  famous 
Leonora  of  Este,  was  about  thirty  years  of  age  at  this 
time,  and  therefore  considerably  older  than  Tasso.  A 
severe  and  protracted  illness  had  shut  her  out  from  the 


278 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


festivities  connected  with  her  brother's  marriage,  and 
communicated  to  her  mind  a  touch  of  sadness,  and  to 
her  features  a  spiritual  deHcacy  which  greatly  increased 
her  attractiveness.  The  numerous  writers  by  whom  she 
is  mentioned  talk  with  rapture,  not  only  of  her  beauty 
and  genius,  but  also  of  her  saintly  goodness,  which  was 
so  great  that  a  single  prayer  of  hers  on  one  occasion 
was  said  to  have  rescued  Ferrara  from  the  wrath  of 
Heaven  evinced  in  the  inundation  of  the  Po.  In  the 
society  of  these  ladies  Tasso  spent  a  great  deal  of  his 
time ;  and  perhaps  his  intercourse  with  them,  uncon- 
strained by  court  conventionalities,  was  not  altogether 
free  from  those  tender  feelings  which  the  charms  of 
a  lovely  and  accomplished  woman,  whatever  her  rank, 
might  readily  excite  in  a  poetic  temperament.  The 
author  of  the  Sorrows  of  Werther  did  not,  therefore, 
perhaps  draw  exclusively  upon  his  imagination  in  picturing 
the  rise  and  struggle  of  an  unhappy  passion  for  Leonora 
d'Este  in  the  bosom  of  the  young  poet.  Whatever  may 
be  said  regarding  this  passion,  however,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  his  heart  was  at  this  time  enslaved  by  younger 
and  humbler  beauties.  He  had  much  of  the  temperament 
of  his  father,  who,  although  exemplary  in  his  single 
and  married  life,  was  distinguished  for  his  Platonic 
gallantry,  and  cherished  a  poetic  attachment,  according 
to  the  fashion  of  the  day,  for  various  ladies  throughout 
his  career,  such  as  Genevra  Malatesta,  the  beautiful  Tullia 
of  Arragon,  and  Marguerite  de  Valois,  sister  of  Henry  HI. 
These  follies  were  but  the  froth  of  his  genius,  however ; 
and  in  this  respect  his  son  followed  his  example. 
Lucrezia  Bendidio,  a  young  lady  at  court  gifted  with 
singular  beauty  and  musical  talent,  reigned  for  a  while 
supreme  over  his  affections.  But  she  had  other  suitors, 
including  the  author  of  the  Pastor  Fido^  and  the  poet 
Pigna,  who  was  the  secretary  and  favourite  of  the  reigning 
duke.  The  Princess  Leonora  tried  to  cure  Tasso  of 
this  passion  by  persuading  him  to  illustrate  the  verses  of 
his  rival  Pigna.    Nothing  came  of  this  first  love,  therefore. 


I 


I 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


279 


and  the  object  of  it  soon  after  married  into  the  house  of 

Machiavelli. 

In  the  congenial  atmosphere  of  the  court  of  Ferrara, 
surrounded  by  the  flower  of  beauty  and  chivalry,  stimu- 
lated by  the  associations  of  his  master  Ariosto,  which 
every   object   around  recalled,  and  encouraged  by  the 
praises  of  the  sweetest  lips  in  the  palace,  Tasso  set  him- 
self diligently  to  the  composition  of  the  great  work  of 
his  life,  the  Gerusalemme  Liherata,  the  plan  of  which  he 
had  formed  before   he    left  the   University  of  Padua. 
Among  the  treasures  of  the  Vatican  Library  I  have  seen 
a  sketch  in  the  poet's  own  handwriting  of  the  first  three 
cantos.      This  sketch  he  now  modified  and  enlarged, 
and  in  the  space  of  a  few  months  completed  five  entire 
cantos.     He  read  the  poem  as  it  proceeded  to  the  fair 
sisters  of  his  patron,  and  received  the  benefit  of  their 
criticisms.     This  work,  which  is  "  the  great  epic  poem 
in  the  strict  sense  of  modern  times,"  occupied  altogether 
eighteen  years  of  the  author's  life.      It  was  begun  in 
extreme  youth,   and   finished  in  middle  age,   and  is  a 
most  remarkable  example  of  a  young  man's  devotion  to 
one    absorbing   object.       The    opening    chapters    were 
written  amid  the  bright  dreams  of  youth,  and  in  the 
happiest  circumstances ;  the  closing  ones  were  composed 
amid   the  dark   clouds  of  a  morbid  melancholy,   and 
during  an  imprisonment  tyrannical   in  all   its  features. 
Placed  side  by  side  with  Homer  and  Virgil,  it  may  be 
said  with  Voltaire  that  Tasso  was  more  fortunate  than 
either  of  these  immortals  in  the  choice  of  his  subject. 
It  was  based,  not  upon  tradition,  but  upon  true  history. 
It  appealed   not  merely  to  the  passions   of  love  and 
ambition,  but   to   the  deepest   feelings  of  the  soul,   to 
faith  in  the  unseen  and  eternal.     To  humanity  at  large 
the  wars  of  the  Cross  must  be  more  interesting  than  the 
wrath  of  Achilles,  and  the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre 
than  the  siege  of  Troy.     No  theme  could  be  more  sus- 
ceptible of  poetic  treatment  than  the  Crusades.     They 
were  full  of  stirring  incident,   of  continually  changing 


28o 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


281 


objects  and  images.  The  strife  took  place  amid  scenes 
from  which  the  most  familiar  stories  of  our  childhood 
have  come,  and  around  which  have  gathered  the  most 
sacred  associations  of  the  heart.  And  Tasso's  mind  w^as 
one  that  was  peculiarly  adapted  to  reflect  all  the  special 
characteristics  of  the  theme.  It  was  deeply  religious  in 
its  tone,  and  therefore  could  enter  into  the  struggle  with 
all  the  sympathy  of  real  conviction.  His  luxuriant  im- 
agination was  chastened  by  his  classical  culture ;  while 
the  pervading  melancholy  of  his  temperament  gave  to 
the  scenes  which  he  described  an  effect  such  as  a  thin 
veil  of  mist  that  comes  and  goes  gives  to  a  mountain 
landscape.  The  gorgeous  Oriental  world  of  the  palm 
tree  and  the  camel,  seen  through  this  sad  poetic  haze, 
has  all  the  shadows  of  the  deep  northern  forests  and  the 
tender  gloom  of  the  western  hills.  The  rigid  outlines  of 
history  fade  in  it  to  the  indefiniteness  of  fable,  and  fact 
becomes  as  flexible  as  fancy. 

The  circumstances  of  the  times  were  also  peculiarly 
favourable  for  the  composition  of  such  a  poem.  He 
was  at  the  proper  focal  distance  to  appreciate  the  full 
interest  of  the  Crusades,  not  too  near  to  be  absorbed  in 
observation  and  engrossed  in  the  immediate  results ;  not 
too  far  off  to  lose  the  sympathy  for  the  religious  chivalry 
which  inspired  the  Holy  War.  Earlier,  in  the  intensely 
prosaic  period  that  immediately  succeeded,  the  romance 
of  the  Crusades  was  gone ;  later,  Europe  was  girding 
itself  for  the  sterner  task  of  reformation.  Before  the 
time  of  Tasso,  Peter  the  Hermit  would  have  been 
deemed  a  foolish  enthusiast ;  later,  he  would  have  been 
sent  to  a  lunatic  asylum.  But  just  at  the  time  when 
Tasso  wrote  there  was  much,  especially  in  Italy,  of  that 
spirit  which  roused  and  quickened  Europe  in  the  eleventh 
century,  much  that  appealed  to  the  natural  poetry  in  the 
human  heart.  The  recent  victory  of  the  Christian  forces 
at  the  famous  battle  of  Lepanto  checked  the  spread  of 
Mohammedanism  in  Eastern  Europe,  and  turned  men's 
thoughts  back  into  the  old  channel  of  the  Crusades ;  so 


I 


that  Gregory  XIII.,  who  ascended  the  pontifical  throne 
about  the  time  that  Tasso  had  resumed  the  writing  of 
his  Gerusakvwie,  had  actually  planned  an  expedition  to 
the  Holy  Land,  like  that  which  his  predecessor,  Urban 
II.,  had  sent  out.  And  one  of  the  principal  events 
which  the  poet  witnessed  after  his  arrival  at  Ferrara, 
when  the  marriage  rejoicings  were  over,  was  the  de- 
parture of  the  reigning  duke  with  a  company  of  three 
hundred  gentlemen  of  his  court,  arrayed  in  all  the  pomp 
and  splendour  of  the  famous  Paladins  of  the  first 
Crusade,  to  assist  the  Emperor  of  Austria  in  repelling 
an  invasion  of  the  Turks  into  Hungary.  Many  of  the 
noble  houses  of  Europe  at  this  time  were  extremely 
anxious  to  trace  their  origin  to  the  Crusades ;  and  the 
vanity  of  the  house  of  Este  required  that  Tasso  should 
make  the  great  hero  of  his  epic — the  brave  and  chival- 
rous Rinaldo — an  ancestor  of  their  family.  The  scenes 
and  associations,  too,  in  the  midst  of  which  his  daily 
life  was  spent,  helped  him  to  realise  vividly  the  pageantry 
connected  with  the  heroes  of  his  epic. 

Thus  happy  in  the  choice  of  a  subject,  and  favoured 
by  the  spirit  of  the  time  and  the  circumstances  in  which 
he  was  placed,  Tasso  gave  himself  up  to  the  composition 
of  his  poem  with  a  most  absorbing  devotion.  Like 
Virgil,  he  first  sketched  out  his  work  in  prose,  and  on 
this  groundwork  elaborated  the  charms  of  colouring  and 
harmony  which  distinguish  the  poem.  So  carefully  did 
he  study  the  military  art  of  his  day  that  all  his  battles 
and  contests  are  scientifically  described,  and  are  in  entire 
accordance  with  the  most  rigorous  rules  of  war ;  and  so 
thoroughly  did  he  make  himself  acquainted  with  the 
topography  of  the  Holy  Land  by  the  aid  of  books,  that 
Chateaubriand,  who  read  the  Gerusalemme  under  the 
walls  of  Jerusalem,  was  struck  with  the  fidelity  of  the 
local  descriptions.  Tasso  occasionally  sought  relief 
from  his  great  task  by  the  composition  of  sonnets  and 
lyrics,  which  were  published  in  the  Rime  of  the  Paduan 
Academy,  and  contributed  to  make  him  still  more  popu- 


282 


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CHAP. 


lar  all  over  Italy.  He  also  took  part  in  those  literary 
disputations  in  public  which  were  characteristic  of  the 
age ;  and  for  three  days  in  the  Academy  of  Ferrara,  in 
the  presence  of  the  court,  defended  against  both  sexes 
fifty  "Amorous  Conclusions"  which  he  had  drawn  up — 
a  form  of  controversy  which  seems  to  have  been  a  relic 
of  the  courts  or  parliaments  of  love,  very  popular  in  the 
twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries.  One  of  the  ladies  of 
the  court  impugned  with  success  his  twenty-first  con- 
clusion "  that  man  loves  more  intensely  and  with  more 
stability  than  woman;"  but  whether  this  success  was 
the  result  of  the  goodness  of  her  cause,  and  not  rather 
of  her  own  ability  or  of  Tasso's  gallantry,  may  be  left  an 
open  question.  He  afterwards  published  the  whole 
series  of  the  "Amorous  Conclusions,"  and  dedicated 
them  to  Gencvra  Malatesta,  who  now,  as  an  old  married 
woman,  was  greatly  touched  by  receiving  such  a  compli- 
ment from  the  son  of  her  former  lover. 

Tasso's  father  was  now  dying  at  Ostiglia,  a  small  place 
on  the  Po,  of  which  the  Duke  of  Mantua  had  made  him 
governor.     With  talents  unimpaired,  at  the  age  of  seventy- 
six,  and  while  preparing  a  new  poem  upon  the  episode  of 
Floridante  in  the  Amadii^^i,  he  was  seized  with  his  last 
illness.     His  son,  full  of  filial  anxiety,  hastened  to  see 
him,  and  found  the  house  in  wretched  disorder;    the 
servants  having  taken  advantage  of  the  heli)lessness  of 
their  master  to  neglect  their  duties  and  steal  any  valu- 
able property  they  could  lay  their  hands  upon,  so  that 
Tasso  had  not  only  to  take  charge  of  the  household 
affairs,  but  also  to  defray  out  of  his  own  scanty  resources 
the    domestic   expenditure.       After    a    month's    severe 
struggle  his  father  died  in  his  arms,  to  the  regret  of  all 
Italy,  and  his  remains  were  interred  with  great  pomp  by 
the  Duke  of  Mantua  in  a  marble  cenotaph  in  the  princi- 
pal church  of  his  capital,  and  were  afterwards  transferred 
by  Tasso  to  the  church  of  St.   Paul  in   Ferrara,  where 
they  now  lie.     Thus  passed  away  one  of  the  most  con- 
spicuous and  unfortunate  persons  of  his  age,  of  whom  it 


IX 


ST.   ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


283 


has  been  said  that  he  was  "  a  politician,  unlucky  in  the 
choice  of  his  party ;  a  client,  unlucky  in  the  choice  of  his 
patrons;  and  a  poet,  unlucky  in  the  choice  of  his  theme." 
The  fatigue  and  sorrow  connected  with  this  bereave- 
ment brought  on  a  severe  illness,  from  which  Torquato 
recovered  with  a  sense  of  loneliness  and  depression  which 
only  deepened  as  the  years  went  on.     From^  this  melan- 
choly he  enjoyed,  however,  a  temporary  respite  by  a  visit 
to  Paris.     The  house  of  Este  by  frequent  intermarriages 
was  connected  with  the  French  court,  in  consequence  of 
which  they  had  a  right  to  use  the  golden  lilies  of  France 
in  their  armorial  bearings  ;  and  many  of  the  ecclesiastics 
of  the  family  held  rich  benefices  in  that  country  as  well 
as  in  their  own.      Cardinal  Lewis,  the  brother  of  the 
reigning    duke,    resolved   to    inspect   the   abbeys    that 
belonged  to  him  in  France,  and  to  strengthen  the  Roman 
Catholic  cause,  which  had  received  a  severe  blo\y  from 
the  Reformation  ;  and  among  the  gentlemen  of  his  train 
he  took  with  him  Tasso,  in  order  to  introduce  him  to  his 
cousin  Charles  IX.,  who  himself  dabbled  in  poetry  and 
had  a  fine  literary  taste.     From  the  French  monarch  the 
poet  obtained  a  gracious  reception;  and  by  the  whole 
court  he  was  warmly  welcomed  as  one  who  had  worthily 
commemorated   the  gallant   deeds   of  the   Paladins   of 
France  at  the  siege  of  Jerusalem.     For  nearly  a  year  he 
resided  in  different  parts  of  France,  and  notwithstanding 
the  numerous  distractions  of  such  a  novel  mode  of  life, 
he  added   many  admirable   stanzas  to  his  great   epic, 
inspired    by  the  very  scenes  among   which  his  hero, 
Godfrey,  and  his  knights  had  lived.     He  left  just  in  time 
to  escape  the  dreadful  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew ;  but 
he  may  be  said  to  have  suffered  indirectly  on  account  of 
it.     Though  treated  with  distinction  by  the  French  court, 
his  personal  wants  were  left  unsupplied,  and  his  patron, 
Cardinal   Lewis,  did  not  make  up  for  this   meanness. 
Voltaire,  therefore,  had  reason  to  indulge  in  a  cynical 
sneer  at  the  glowing  accounts  of  his  visit  given  by  Italian 
writers;  and  Balzac's  statement  that  Tasso  left  France 


284 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


in  the  same  suit  of  clothes  that  he  brought  with  him, 
after  having  worn  it  for  a  year,  is  not  without  foundation. 
This  shabby  treatment,  however,  was  part  of  a  wider 
State  policy.  The  year  of  Tasso's  residence  in  France 
was  one  of  preparation  for  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew ;  but  in  order  to  avert  the  suspicions  of  the  intended 
victims,  the  Huguenots  were  treated  with  such  extraordin- 
ary favour  by  the  authorities  that  the  Pope  himself  was 
incensed,  and  remonstrated  with  the  King.  Tasso, 
ignorant  of  the  dreadful  secret,  spoke  candidly  and 
vehemently  against  the  reformed  doctrines  and  those 
who  professed  them.  His  patron  therefore  simulated 
deep  indignation  on  account  of  this  imprudence  ;  and  as 
the  step  fell  in  both  with  his  personal  avarice  and  his 
State  policy,  he  broke  off  the  cordial  relations  that 
formerly  existed  between  them. 

On  the  return  of  Tasso  to  Ferrara  he  occupied  him- 
self for  about  two  months  with  the  composition  of  a 
pastoral  drama  called  the  Aminta.  This  species  of 
poem,  which  originated  with  Theocritus,  who  represented 
the  shepherds  of  Sicily  nearly  as  they  were,  and  was 
imitated  by  Virgil,  who  idealised  the  shepherd  life,  was 
revived  at  the  court  of  Ferrara ;  and  some  years  before 
a  local  poet  wrote  a  ]\istoral  describing  a  romantic 
Arcadia,  which  was  acted  at  the  palace,  and  seems  to 
have  inspired  Tasso  with  the  idea  of  writing  one  too. 
But  all  previous  pastorals — the  Sacfifizio  of  Beccari,  the 
Aretusa  of  LoUio,  the  Sfortunato  of  Argenti — were  rough 
and  incongruous  medleys  compared  with  the  finished 
production  of  Tasso,  which  may  be  said  to  mark  an  era 
in  the  history  of  dramatic  poetry.  Although  Tasso  him- 
self did  not  think  much  of  it,  and  did  not  take  any  steps 
to  publish  it,  the  judgment  of  his  contemporaries  and 
of  posterity  has  placed  it  next  in  point  of  merit  to  the 
Gerusalemme ;  and  by  Italians  it  is  especially  admired 
for  its  graceful  elegance  of  diction.  Leigh  Hunt  exe- 
cuted a  very  good  translation  of  it,  which  he  dedicated 
to   Keats.      Its  choruses,  which   are   so   many  "lyrical 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


28s 


voices  floating  in  the  air,"  are  very  beautiful.      It  was 
designed   for   the   theatre,   and    was    acted  with   great 
splendour  at  the  court  of  Ferrara,  and  a  few  years  later 
at   Mantua,  when   the   well-known   artist   and   architect 
Buontalenti  painted  the  scenery.      This  fact,  however, 
shows  how  primitive  was  the  state  of  the  theatre  at  this 
time ;  and  how  the  spectators,  little  accustomed  to  his- 
trionic representations,  were  content  to  witness  dramas 
that  had  no  plot  or  action,  and  to  follow  the  progress  of 
a  beautiful  poem  rather  than  a  dramatic  development. 
The   Amiiita    long  retained  its  popularity  as  an  acted 
poem   in   Italy.       It  was  often  represented  in  open-air 
theatres,  like  the  ancient  Greek  plays,  in  gardens  or  in 
woods,   where    Nature    supplied  the    scenery,   and    the 
scalivata  or  stage  was  only  some  rising  piece  of  ground. 
Traces  of  one  of  these  sylvan  theatres  may  still  be  seen 
in  the  grounds  of  the  Villa  Madama,  on   the   eastern 
slopes  of  Monte  Mario  near  Rome;    and  one  cannot 
help  thinking  that  a  poem  so  redolent  of  the  open  air,  so 
full  of  Nature  and  still  natural  life,  which  Tasso  himself 
called  Favola  Boschereccia,  or  a  Sylvan  Fable,  was  better 
adapted  for  such  a  stage  than  for  the  heated  air  and 
artificial  surroundings  of  the  Italian  theatres.     Such  a 
pastoral  was  in  entire  keeping  with  the  manners  of  the 
Italian  peasants ;    and  the  scenes  of  Arcadia  which  it 
represented  might  be  seen   almost   everywhere   in  the 
beautiful  valleys  and  chestnut-covered  hills  of  their  native 
land.     The  exquisite  loveliness  of  the  climate,  and  the 
simplicity  and  indolence  of  the  people,  lent  themselves 
naturally  to   such    ideal    dreams.       And  Tasso  in  his 
Amitita  only  gave  expression  to  the  same  happy  thoughts 
which  the  same  scenery  and  the  same  people  had  ages 
before  inspired  in  the  mind  of  Virgil  when  he  wrote  his 

Eclogues. 

After  a  few  months'  quiet  sojourn  with  Lucrezia 
d'Este,  now  Duchess  of  Urbino,  at  that  court,  he  was 
appointed  secretary  to  the  Duke  of  Ferrara,  in  room  of 
his  rival  Pigna,  who  for  this  reason  became  his  mortal 


286 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


enemy,  and  stirred  up  against  him  the  persecution  which 
embittered  his  whole  subsequent  Hfe.  But  standing  high, 
as  he  did,  in  the  favour  of  the  duke,  he  enjoyed  for  a 
while  a  season  of  calm  repose,  during  which  he  finished 
the  great  epic  poem,  which  was  eagerly  looked  for 
throughout  Italy.  Anxious  to  make  this  cherished  work 
of  his  genius  as  perfect  as  possible,  he  unfortunately  was 
imprudent  enough  to  submit  portions  of  his  work  to  all 
his  learned  friends  for  their  opinion.  Besides  in  this 
way  getting  the  most  contradictory  advices,  sacrificing 
his  own  independent  judgment,  and  imposing  an  unworthy 
yoke  upon  his  genius,  the  result  was  that  the  fragments 
of  the  poem  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  and  so  got  into 
the  possession  of  the  printers,  who,  eager  to  profit  by  the 
l)ublic  curiosity,  pieced  them  together,  and  clandestinely 
printed  them.  Even  in  this  fragmentary  form,  the  cantos 
that  appeared  in  various  cities  of  Italy  were  received  with 
unbounded  applause.  The  author,  as  may  be  imagined, 
was  intensely  annoyed  at  this  wrong  that  had  been  done 
to  him,  and  wrote  to  the  Pope,  to  the  Republic  of  Genoa, 
and  to  all  the  Italian  princes  who  had  any  authority  in 
the  case,  to  put  a  stop  to  the  publication  of  a  work 
which  had  been  circulated  without  his  sanction,  but  in 
vain.  Even  the  first  complete  edition,  which  was 
issued  in  1581,  seems  to  have  been  without  his  con- 
sent ;  for  the  author  complains  that  he  was  compelled, 
by  the  surreptitious  publication  of  parts  of  his  poem, 
to  finish  the  work  in  haste,  and  he  wished  for  more 
time  to  elaborate  the  plot  and  polish  the  style.  In 
the  later  editions,  no  less  than  seven  of  which  appeared 
the  same  year,  Tasso  seems  to  have  been  to  some  extent 
consulted ;  but  it  may  be  said  that  the  great  epic  was 
given  to  the  world  in  the  form  in  which  we  now  have  it, 
without  the  author's  imprimatur,  and  without  the  benefit 
of  his  finishing  touches.  But  in  spite  of  this  disadvantage 
it  took  the  whole  country  at  once  by  storm.  Two 
thousand  copies  were  sold  in  two  days.  Throughout 
literary  circles  nothing  else  was  spoken  of.    The  exquisite 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


287 


stanzas,  full  of  the  true  chivalric  spirit,  touched  a  respon- 
sive chord  in  every  Italian  bosom.       Not  only  in  the 
academies  of  the  learned  was  the  poem  discussed,  not 
only  was  it  recited  before  princes  amid  the  splendours  of 
courts,  but  priests  mused  over  it  in  the  solitude  of  the 
cloister,  and  peasants   chanted   its   sonorous   strains  as 
they  worked  in  the  fields.     Quotations  from  it,  we  are 
told,  might  be  heard  from  the  gondolier  on  the  Grand 
Canal  of  Venice,  as  he  greeted  his  neighbour  in  passing 
by,  and   from   the   brigand  on  the  far   heights   of  the 
Abruzzi,  as  he  lay  in  wait  for  the  unsuspecting  traveller ; 
and  "  a  portion  of  the  Crusader's  Litany  was  a  favourite 
chant  of  the  galley-slaves  of  Leghorn,  as,  chained  to- 
gether, they  dragged  their  weary  steps  along  the  shore." 
There  is  no  book  which  it  is  easier  to  find  fault  with 
than  the   Gerusahmme  when  estimated  by  the  satiated 
critical    spirit    of    modern    times,    which    insists    upon 
brevity,   and   demands    in    each   line   a  certain   poetic 
excellence;    especially   if    the    poem    is    known    only 
through  the  medium   of  a  translation,  which,  however 
faithful,  is  but  the  turning  of  the  wrong  side  of  a  piece 
of  tapestry.     AVe  may  object  to  the  want  of  originality 
in   the   leading   characters,   to   the    occasional   inflated 
style,  and  the  conceits  and  plays  upon  words  now  and 
then    introduced,    to    the    apparently    disproportionate 
influence  of  love  upon  the  action  of  the  poem,  as  Hal- 
lam  has  remarked,  giving  it  an  eff'eminate  tone,  and, 
above  all,  to  the  introduction  of  so  much  supernatural 
machinery  in  the  form  of  magic  and  demons  j  for  such 
supernaturalism   is  out  of  keeping  altogether  with   our 
vaster  knowledge  of  the  universe,  and  our  more  solemn 
ideas  of  Him  who  pervades  it.     But   it  is  not  by   an 
analysis   of   particular  parts,  or  a  criticism   of  special 
peculiarities,  that  the  Geriisalemme  should  be  judged. 
It  is  by  its  efl"ect  as  a  whole,  as  a  highly  finished  work 
of  art.     A  single  campaign  of  the  first  crusade — that 
of   1099 — embraces   the  whole  action  of  the  poem; 
but  the  numerous  episodes  form  each  a  perfect  picture, 


288 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAr. 


that,  like  a  flower  floating  on  a  stream,  and  illumined  by 
a  special  gleam  of  sunlight,  does  not  interrupt  the  con- 
tinuous flow  of  the  narrative.  In  a  state  of  society 
characterised  by  much  corruption,  the  sentiments  are 
uniformly  pure;  and  in  an  artificial  age,  when  Nature 
was  regarded  as  only  the  background  of  human  action, 
the  descriptions  of  the  objects  of  Nature  are  wonderfully 
accurate ;  and  the  mind  of  the  poet  towards  the  flowers 
and  trees,  the  woods  and  hills  and  streams,  was  in  a 
childlike  state,  and  had  all  the  freshness  and  joyous- 
ness  of  childhood.  The  student  is  not  to  be  envied 
who  can  read  without  emotion  the  enthusiastic  descrip- 
tion of  the  Crusader's  first  sight  of  Jerusalem,  the  touch- 
ing pathos  of  Clorinda's  death,  and  the  sublime  account 
of  the  ruins  of  Carthage.  It  would  indeed  refresh 
many  a  mind,  surfeited  by  the  vast  mass  of  our  modern 
literature,  to  go  back  to  the  green  pastures  and  still 
waters  of  this  grand  old  poem. 

Every  visitor  to  Florence  knows  the  venerable 
monastery  of  San  Marco,  with  its  hallowed  relics  of 
Savonarola,  and  its  beautiful  frescoes  of  Fra  Angelico. 
In  a  large  apartment  of  this  monastery,  which  was 
formerly  the  library  of  the  monks,  are  now  held  the 
meetings  of  the  famous  Delia  Cruscan  Academy,  insti- 
tuted in  1582  for  the  purpose  of  purifying  the  national 
language.  At  that  time  every  town  of  the  least  import- 
ance in  Italy  had  its  academy  with  some  strange  fantastic 
name,  which  was  an  important  element  in  the  intellectual 
life  of  the  people,  and  exercised  a  critical  control  over 
the  literature  of  the  day.  Up  to  the  year  18 14  the 
Delia  Cruscans  assembled  in  the  Palazzo  Riccardi,  the 
ancient  palace  of  the  Medici ;  but  that  stately  building 
being  required  for  Government  purposes,  the  members 
have  since  been  accommodated  in  San  ^larco,  where 
they  have  sunk  into  obscurity,  many  of  the  inhabitants 
of  Florence  being  altogether  ignorant  of  the  existence  of 
such  an  institution  in  their  city.  I  had  considerable 
difficulty  in  finding  out  the  locality.     The  furniture  of 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


289 


^, 


the  apartment  is  exceedingly  curious,  and  is  meant  to 
indicate  the  object  of  the  Academy,  which — as  its  name 
literally  translated,  0/  the  bran  or  chaff,  signifies— is  to 
sift  the  fine  flour  of  the  language  from  the  corrupt  bran 
that  has  gathered  around  it.  The  chairs  are  made  in 
imitation  of  a  baker's  basket,  turned  bottom  upwards 
and  painted  red.  On  the  wall  behind  each  chair  is 
suspended  a  shovel,  with  the  name  of  its  owner  painted 
upon  it,  along  with  a  group  of  flowers  in  aUusion  to  the 
famous  motto  of  the  Academy,  "II  piu  bel  fior  ne 
coglie,"  "It  plucks  the  fairest  flower."  On  the  table, 
during  my  visit,  there  was  a  model  of  a  flour-dressing 
machine  and  some  meal  sacks;  while  several  printed 
sheets  of  a  new  edition  of  the  Italian  Dictionary,  which 
the  members  were  engaged  in  publishing  at  the  time, 
with  manuscript  corrections,  were  scattered  about  At 
present  the  Academy,  besides  doing  this  important 
work,  occasionally  holds  public  sessions;  but  it  is  an 
effete  institution,  that  has  little  more  than  an  archaeo- 
logical interest.  It  was  very  diff'erent,  however,  in  the 
sixteenth  century.  Then,  in  point  of  numbers  and 
reputation,  it  was  the  outstanding  literary  academy  of 
Italy,  and  occupied  the  commanding  position  from 
which  the  all-powerful  humanists  of  the  previous  age  had 
been  driven  by  the  counter  reformation.  It  is  chiefly, 
however,  by  its  attacks  upon  Tasso  that  it  is  now  known 

to  fame. 

No  sooner  was  the  Gerusakmme  published  than 
comparisons  began  to  be  instituted  between  it  and  the 
Orlando  Furioso  of  Ariosto,  This  latter  poem  was  then 
in  the  zenith  of  its  reputation ;  it  was  regarded  as  the 
supreme  standard  of  literary  excellence,  and  it  was 
slavishly  imitated  by  all  the  inferior  poets  of  Italy.  It 
was  inevitable,  therefore,  that  the  two  works  should  be 
compared  together.  But  as  well  might  the  ^Eneid  of 
Virgil  be  compared  with  the  Metamorphoses  of  Ovid. 
The  Orlando  Furioso  is  a  romantic  poem  in  the  manner 
of  Ovid,  whereas  the  Gerusale??me  Liberata  is  an  epic 

u 


290 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


poem  in  the  manner  of  Homer  and  Virgil.  No  Italian 
poet  previous  to  Tasso  had  written  an  epic ;  and  Tasso 
himself  distinctly  avowed  that  he  had  chosen  that  form 
of  poetry  deliberately ;  not  only  as  being  more  con- 
genial to  his  own  mind,  but  also  that  he  might  avoid 
following  in  the  steps  of  Ariosto,  whose  work  he  re- 
garded as,  in  its  own  department,  incapable  of  being 
excelled,  or  even  equalled.  In  reply  to  the  generous 
letter  of  Ariosto's  nephew,  who  wrote  him  a  letter  of 
congratulation,  he  said,  "  The  crown  you  would  honour 
me  with  already  adorns  the  head  of  the  poet  to  whom 
you  are  related,  from  whence  it  would  be  as  easy  to 
snatch  it  as  to  wrest  the  club  from  the  hand  of  Hercules. 
I  would  no  more  receive  it  from  your  hand  than  I  would 
snatch  it  myself" 

But  in  spite  of  the  altogether  different  nature  of  the 
two  poems,  and  in  spite  of  the  distinct  disavowals  of 
Tasso,  the  critics  persisted  in  accusing  him  of  the  pre- 
sumption of  entering  the  lists  with  Ariosto.  And  in  this 
idea  they  were  strengthened  by  the  injudicious  praises  of 
Camillo  Pellegrini,  who  in  a  dialogue  entitled  Caraffa 
or  Epic  Poetry^  likened  the  Orlando  Furioso  to  a  palace, 
the  plan  of  which  is  defective,  but  which  contains  superb 
rooms  splendidly  adorned,  and  is  therefore  very  captivat- 
ing to  the  simple  and  ignorant ;  while  the  Gcrusalatune 
Liberaia  resembles  a  smaller  palace,  whose  architecture 
is  perfect,  and  whose  rooms  are  suitable  and  elegant 
without  being  gaudy,  delighting  the  true  masters  of  art. 
This  squib  was  published  in  Florence,  and  at  once 
aroused  the  hostility  of  the  Delia  Cruscans.  They 
were  already  prejudiced  against  Tasso  on  account  of  his 
connection  with  the  court  of  Ferrara,  between  which  and 
the  court  of  Florence  there  was  a  bitter  rivalry ;  and 
that  offence  was  intensified  by  the  unguarded  way  in 
which  he  spoke  of  the  Florentines  as  being  under  the 
yoke  of  the  Medici,  whom  he  denounced  as  tyrants. 
The  Academy,  which  at  the  time  enjoyed  the  patronage 
of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  was  therefore  too  glad 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


291 


to  seize  upon  Pellegrini's  squib  as  a  pretext  for  a 
vehement  attack  upon  Tasso's  epic.  Ariosto  was  dead, 
had  passed  among  the  immortals,  and  was  therefore 
beyond  all  envy;  but  here  was  a  living  poet,  who 
belonged  to  a  court  which  had  cruelly  treated  the 
daughter  of  their  ruler,  Lucrezia  de  Medici,  the  first 
wife  of  Alfonso  of  Ferrara,  and  was  a  mere  youth,  who 
was  guilty  of  the  sacrilege  of  seeking  to  dethrone  their 
favourite.  Ariosto  had  greatly  admired  Florence,  and 
celebrated  its  beauties  in  one  of  his  finest  poems ;  and 
was  it  to  be  borne  that  this  young  upstart,  who  had 
presumed  to  speak  disparagingly  of  their  city,  should  be 
preferred  to  him  ?  It  would  be  a  useless  waste  of  time 
to  go  over  in  detail  the  absurd  criticisms  by  which 
they  attempted  to  throw  ridicule  upon  the  Gerusalcnune 
Liberaia.  They  would  have  passed  into  utter  oblivion 
had  not  Tasso  himself,  by  condescending  to  reply  to 
them,  given  to  them  an  immortality  of  shame.  Not 
contented  with  abusing  his  poem  and  himself,  they  also 
attacked  his  father,  asserting  that  his  Afnadigi  was  a 
most  miserable  work,  and  was  pillaged  wholesale  from 
the  writings  of  others,  and  thus  wounded  the  poet  in 
the  most  tender  part. 

By  this  combination  of  critical  cavils  against  him, 
Tasso  was  thrown  back  from  the  land  of  poetical  vision 
into  a  dreary  mental  wilderness.  The  effect  upon  one 
of  his  most  sensitive  nature,  predisposed  by  temperament 
and  the  vicissitudes  of  his  life  to  profound  melancholy, 
was  most  disastrous.  We  can  trace  to  this  cause  the 
commencement  of  those  mental  disorders  which,  if  they 
never  reached  actual  insanity,  bordered  upon  it,  and 
darkened  the  rest  of  his  life.  His  overwrought  mind 
gave  way  to  all  kinds  of  morbid  fancies.  His  body 
became  enfeebled  by  the  agitation  of  his  mind ;  and  the 
powerful  medicines  which  he  was  prevailed  upon  to 
take  to  cure  his  troubles  only  increased  them.  Like 
Rousseau  during  his  sad  visit  to  England,  he  became 
suspicious  of  every  one,  and  lost  faith  even  in  himself 


292 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


293 


Religious  doubts  commenced  to  agitate  his  mind.  Dis- 
tracted by  this  worst  of  all  evils,  he  put  himself  into 
the  hands  of  the  Holy  Fraternity  at  Bologna;  and 
though  the  inquisitors  had  sense  enough  to  see  that 
what  he  considered  atheistical  doubts  were  only  the 
illusions  of  hypochondria,  and  tried  to  reassure  him  as 
to  their  belief  in  the  soundness  of  his  faith,  he  was  not 
satisfied  with  the  absolution  which  they  had  given  to 

him. 

The  court  of  Ferrara  was  full  of  unscrupulous  m- 
triguers.     Tasso's  wonderful  success  could  not  be  for- 
given by  some  of  the  petty  aspirants  after  literary  fame 
who  haunted  the  ducal  precincts.     Pigna,  whose  place 
as  secretary  he  had  usurped,  stirred  up  the  jealousy  of 
the  other  courtiers  into  open  persecution.      Leonardo 
Salvinati,   the    leader  of  the   Delia  Cruscan   Academy, 
wishing  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  court,  joined  in 
the  hostility.     Tasso's  papers  were  stolen,  and  his  letters 
intercepted  and  read,  and  a  false  construction  was  put 
upon  everything  he  did.     At  first  the  duke  refused  to 
hear  the  various  accusations  that  were  brought  against 
him,  and  continued  to  show  him  every  mark  of  esteem. 
He  had  the  privilege,  in  that  ceremonious  age  a  very  high 
one,  of  dining  daily  with  the  prince  at  his  own  private 
table.     He  accompanied  the  princesses  to  their  country 
retreats  at  Urbino,  Belriguarda,  or  Consandoli,  where  in 
healthy  country  pursuits  he  forgot  for  a  time  his  troubles. 
At  Urbino  he  wrote  the  unfinished  canzone  to  the  river 
Metauro,  one  of  the  most  touching  of  his  compositions, 
in  which    he   laments   the   wounds   which  fortune   had 
inflicted  upon  him  through  the  whole  of  his  hapless  life. 
But  the  tenure  of  princely  favour  at  Italian  courts, 
amid  so  many  ambitious  patrons  and  anxious  suitors, 
was  very  precarious.     It  was  uncommonly  so  at  Ferrara. 
After  a  while  a  sudden  change  passed  over  the  mind  of 
the  duke  towards  Tasso.     Whether  tired  of  the  poet's 
incessant  complaints,  irritated  at  his  incautious  conduct 
going  the   length   on   two  occasions  of  drawing  his 


sword,  when  provoked,  upon  members  of  the  ducal  house- 
hold,--or  whether  his  suspicions  were  aroused  regarding 
the  relations  between  him  and  his  sister  Leonora,  is  not 
known,  but  from  this  time  he  began  to  treat  Tasso  as  if 
he  were  a  madman.     He  was  placed  under  the  charge 
of  the  ducal  physicians  and  servants,  who  reported  to 
their  employer    every   careless    word.      Removed   from 
Belriguarda,  he  was  order  to  be  confined  in  the  Ferrarese 
convent  of  San  Francisco  ;  and  two  friars  were  appointed 
to  watch  over  him  continually.     Such  a  life  was  unen- 
durable to  the  proud  poet,  who  disliked  the  nauseous 
medicines  of  the  convent  as  much  as  its  restraint ;  and 
taking  advantage  of  ^festa,  when  his  keepers  were  unusu- 
ally negligent,  he  made  his  escape  by  a  window.     In  the 
disguise  of  a  shepherd  he  travelled  on  foot  over  the 
mountains  of  the  Abruzzi,  getting  a  morsel  of  bread  and  a 
lodging  from  the  peasants  by  the  way,  to  his  sister's  house 
at  Sorrento,  now  the  Vigna  Sersale.     There  he  remained 
during  the  whole  summer,  soothed  by  his  sister's  affec- 
tionate kindness.     The  monotony  of  the  hfe,  however, 
began  to  pall  upon  him,  and  he  longed  to  get  back  to 
his  old  scenes  of  excitement     Undeterred  by  an  evasive 
reply  which  the  duke  sent  to  an  urgent  letter  of  his,  he 
set  out  for  Ferrara ;  and  on  his  arrival,  meeting  with  a 
cold  reception,  he  was  obliged  again  to  leave  the  place 
where  he  had  once  been  so  happy.     For  a  year  and  a 
half  he  wandered  over  almost  the  whole  of  Northern 
Italy,  visiting  in  turn  Venice,  Urbino,  Mantua,  Padua, 
Rome,  and  Turin.     At  the  last  place  he  arrived  without 
a  passport,  and  in  such  a  miserable  condition  that  the 
guards  at  the  gates  of  the  city  would  not  have  admitted 
him  had  he  not  been  recognised  by  a  Venetian  printer 
who  happened  to  be  present.     His  startled  looks,  his 
nervous  manner,  and  his  perpetual  restlessness,  confirmed 
wherever  he  went  the  rumour  of  his  madness  ;  and,  even 
if  he  were  not  mad,  the  object  of  Alfonso  of  Este's  anger 
might  be  a  dangerous  associate.     During  all  this  time 
he  was  in  the  greatest  poverty,  being  obliged  to  sell  for 


294 


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CHAP. 


bread  the  splendid  ruby  and  collar  of  gold  which  the 
Duchess  of  Urbino  had  presented  to  him  when  he  recited 
to  her  at  her  own  court  his  pastoral  poem  of  Affiiuta. 

From  the  Duke  of  Urbino  and  Prince  Charles  Emanuel 
of  Savoy,  however,  he  received  generous  treatment ;  but 
a  fatal  spell  carried  him  back  a  third  time  to  Ferrara. 
His  arrival  by  an  unfortunate  coincidence  happened  to 
be  on  the  very  day  that  Margaret  Gonzaga,  daughter  of 
the  Duke  of  Mantua,  was  to  come  home  as  the  third 
bride   of   Alfonso.       The   duke,  preoccupied    with   the 
stately  ceremonies  connected  with  his  nuptials,  took  no 
notice  of  him  ;  and  many  of  the  courtiers  from  whom 
he  expected  an  affectionate  welcome,  taking  their  cue 
from  their  master,  turned  their  backs  upon  him.     What 
a  contrast  to  his  first  reception  at  that  court  fourteen 
years  before,  when  he  stood  among  the  noble  spectators 
of  Alfonso's  marriage  with  his  first  wife,  the  Archduchess 
of  Austria,  as  one  of  the  most  honoured  of  the  guests ! 
He  now  gazed  upon  the  splendours  of  this  third  mar- 
riage ceremony,  by  far  the  greatest  poet  of  his  age,  but 
a   homeless   vagrant,    a    reputed    maniac,    treated    with 
neglect  or  contumely  on  every  side  !     No  wonder  that 
his  cup  of  misery,  which  had  previously  been  filled  to 
the  brim,  overflowed  with  this  last  and  crowning  insult ; 
and,  scarce  knowing  what  he  did,  he  broke  forth  into 
the  most  vehement  denunciations  of  the  duke  and  his 
whole  court,   declaring  that  they  were  all  "a  gang  of 
poltroons,   ingrates,   and    scoundrels."      These  fiery  re- 
proaches, which  his   misery  had  wrung  from  the  poor 
poet,  were   carried  by   his   enemies  to   the   ear   of  the 
Duke,  and  Tasso  was  immediately  seized  and  imprisoned 
as  a  lunatic  in  the  hospital  of  Santa  Anna  in  Ferrara — 
in  the  same  year  and  the  same  month,  it  may  be  men- 
tioned, in  which  another  of  the  great  epic  poets  of  the 
world,  Camoens,  the  author  of  the  Lusiad,  finished  as  a 
pauper  in  an  hospital  his  miserable  career. 

While  madness  was  alleged  as  the  ostensible  reason, 
the  renl  motives  of  this  step  are  involved  in  as  deep  a 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


295 


mystery  as  the  cause  of  Ovid's  banishment  to  Tomi,  on 
the  Euxine.     Muratori,  the  author  of  the  Antiquities  of 
the  House  of  Este,  says  that  he  was  confined  principally 
in  order  that  he  might  be  cured;  while  the  Abbate 
Serassi,  who  wrote  a  life  of  the  poet,  attributes  his  im- 
prisonment to  his  insolence  to  the  duke  and  his  court, 
and  to  his  desire,  repeatedly  expressed  and  acted  upon, 
to  leave  his  patron's  service.     But  both  these  writers 
considered  the    interests   of  the  house  of  Este  more 
sacred   than    those    of    truth.      The    cause    generally 
accepted  is  Tasso's   supposed  attachment  to   Leonora, 
the  sister  of  the  duke.     For  a  long  time  he  is  said  to 
have  cherished  this  passion  in  secret,  concealing  it  even 
from  the  object  of  it,  although  evidences  of  it  may  be 
found  in  some  marked  form  or  playful  allusion  in  nearly 
all  his  poetical  writings;   the  episode   of   Ofinda  and 
Sophronia  in  the  Gerusakmme,  which  he  was  urged  in 
vain  by  his  friends  to  withdraw  on  the   ground  of  its 
irrelevancy,  being  intended  to  represent  his  own  ill-fated 
love.     On  one  occasion,  however,  in  a  confiding  mood, 
he  told  the  secret  to  one  of  the  courtiers  of  Ferrara, 
whom  he  believed  to  be  his  devoted  friend.     But  what 
was  thus  whispered  in  the  closet  was  proclaimed  upon 
the  house-top;   and  a  duel  was  the  result,  in  which 
Tasso,  as  expert  in  the  use  of  the  sword  as  of  the  pen, 
put  to  flight  the  cowardly  traitor  and  his  two  brothers, 
whom  he  had  brought  with  him  to  attack  the  poet.     This 
adventure,  and  the  cause  of  it,  reached  the  ears  of  the 
duke,  w^hose  resentment  was  kindled  by  the  audacity  of 
a  poor  poet  and  dependant  of  his  court  in  falling  in 
love  with  a  lady  of  royal  birth.     On  the  strength  of  this 
suspicion  his  papers  were  seized,  and  all  the  sonnets, 
madrigals,   and   canzones   that  were  supposed  to  give 
countenance  to  it,  confiscated.     The  manuscript  of  the 
Gerusalemine  itself  was  retained,   and  a  deaf  ear  was 
turned  to  the  poet's  entreaties  for  its  restoration.     Gib- 
bon,   in    his    Antiquities   of  the   House  of  Bru7iswick^ 
relates  that  one  day  at  court,  when  the  duke  and  his 


296 


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IX 


ST.  ONOFKIO  AND  TASSO 


297 


sister  Leonora  were  present,  Tasso  was  so  struck  with 
the  beauty  of  the  princess,  that,  in  a  transport  of 
passion,  he  approached  and  kissed  her  before  all  the 
assembly;  whereupon  the  duke,  gravely  turning  to  his 
courtiers,  expressed  his  regret  that  so  great  a  man  should 
have  been  thus  suddenly  bereft  of  reason,  and  made 
the  circumstance  the  pretext  for  shutting  him  up  in  the 
madhouse  of  St.  Anne.  An  abortive  attempt  was  made 
to  prove  the  attachment,  about  fifty  years  ago,  by  a 
certain  Count  Alberti,  who  published  a  manuscript 
correspondence  purporting  to  be  between  Tasso  and 
Leonora,  which  he  discovered  in  the  library  of  the 
Falconieri  Palace  at  Rome.  The  alleged  discovery 
excited  an  immense  amount  of  interest  in  this  country 
and  on  the  Continent;  but  ere  the  edition  was  com- 
pleted the  author  was  accused  of  having  forged  the 
manuscripts   in    question,  and   was   condemned  to  the 

galleys.  ...     ,^ 

The  story  of  this  hapless  love  is  so  romantic  in  itselt, 
and  has  been  made  the  theme  of  so  much  pathetic  poetry, 
that  it  would  be  almost  a  pity  to  destroy  by  proof  any 
foundation  upon  which  it  may  rest.     And  yet  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  agree  with  Professor  Rosini,  who  has  ably  treated 
the  whole  question  in  a  work  entitled  Amore  de  Tasso, 
and  has  come  to  the  conclusion,  after  carefully  weighing 
all  the  evidence,  that  this  was  the  rock  upon  which 
Tasso's  Ufe  made   shipwreck.      On  this  theory  several 
circumstances  are  altogether  inexplicable.     We  may  dis- 
miss at  once  the  famous  kiss  as  certainly  a  myth.     Be- 
sides the  disparity  of  age,  the  ill-health,  severe  piety, 
and  exalted  rank  of  Leonora  were  formidable  barriers  in 
the  way  of  Tasso's  contracting  a  passion  for  her ;  and  it 
i^  well  known  that  the  poet,  who  could  not  have  forgotten 
so  soon  a  devoted  love,  did  not  offer  a  single  tribute  of 
regret  to  her  memory  when  she  died  a  few  years  after- 
wards.    It  is  also  but  too  certain  that  Leonora  left  her 
supposed  lover  to  languish  in  a  dungeon  without  any 
reply  to  his  pathetic  complaints.    The  force  of  gravitation 


is  a  mutual  thing;  and  just  as  the  great  sun  himself 
cannot  but  bend  a  little  in  turn  to  the  smallest  orb  that 
wheels  around  him,  so  the  august  Princess  of  Este  could 
not  but  have  regarded  with  womanly  interest  a  devoted 
admirer,  however  humble.  The  poetical  gallantry  of  the 
day  will  account  for  all  Tasso's  lyrical  effusions  in  praise 
of  Leonora.  They  were  in  most  instances  simply  the 
tributes  that  were  expected  from  the  laureate  of  a  court, 
especially  a  laureate  who  was  accused,  with  some  show 
of  reason,  by  the  courtiers  of  Ferrara,  of  an  enthusiastic 
devotion  to  women,  and  of  wasting  his  life  with  the  day- 
dreams of  love  and  chivalry. 

Regarding  the  question  of  his  madness,  which  w^as,  as 
I  have  said,  the  ostensible  cause  of  his  imprisonment,  we 
are  left  in  almost  equal  uncertainty.      His  morbid  sensi- 
bility, irritated  by  the  treatment  which  he  received  alike 
from 'his  friends  and  foes,  his  repeated  complaints  and 
occasional  violences  and  extravagances  of  conduct,  may 
have  seemed  to  a  selfish  prince  to  border  closely  upon 
mental  derangement.     But  his  whole  conduct  during  his 
imprisonment,  the  nature  of  the  numerous  writings  which 
he  produced  during  that  dark  period,  forbid  us  to  suppose 
that  his  intellect  ever  crossed  the  line  which  separates 
reason  from  insanity.    From  out  the  gloom  that  surrounds 
the  whole  case  two  points  stand  out  clear  and  indisput- 
able, that   no  indiscretion  of  conduct  or  aberration  of 
mind  on  the  part  of  Tasso  can  possibly  have  merited  the 
sufferings  to  which  he  was  subjected,  and  that  whatever 
may  have  been  Alfonso's  suspicions,  his  fiendish  vengeance 
is  one  of  history's  darkest  crimes,  and  covers  the  tyrant 
with  everlasting  disgrace. 

Three  objects  attract  the  steps  of  the  modern  pilgrim 
in  desolate  grass-grown  Ferrara ;  the  house,  distinguished 
by  a  tablet,  in  which  Ariosto  was  born  ;  the  ancient  castle 
in  the  centre  of  the  town,  in  whose  courtyard  Ugo  and 
Parasina,  whom  Byron  has  immortalised,  were  beheaded ; 
and  next  door  to  the  chief  hotel— the  Europa— and  beside 
the  post-office,  the  huge  hospital  of  St.  Anne,  in  which 


298 


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CHAP. 


Tasso  was  confined.     This  last  object  is  by  far  the  most 
interesting.     The  sight  of  it  is  not  needed  to  sadden  one 
more   than   the  deserted   streets  themselves   do.      The 
dungeon,  indicated  by  a  long  inscription  over  the  door, 
is  below  the  ground-floor  of  the  hospital ;  it  is  twelve  feet 
long,  nine  feet  wide,  and  seven  feet  high,  and  the  light 
penetrates  through  its  grated  windows  from  a  small  yard. 
By    several    authors,    including    Goethe,    considerable 
doubts  have  been  expressed  regarding  the  authenticity 
of  this  cell ;   and  certainly  the  present  features  of  the 
place    are    not    confirmatory    of    the    tradition.      This 
doubt,  however,  has  not  prevented  relic-hunters — among 
whom  Shelley  may  be  included — from  carrying  off  in 
small  fragments  the  whole   of  the  bedstead   that  once 
stood  there,  as  well  as  cutting  off  large  pieces  from  the 
door  which  still  survives.      Lamartine  wrote  in  pencil 
some  poetical  lines  upon  the  wall ;  and  Byron,  with  his 
intense  realism,  caused  himself  to  be  locked  for  an  hour 
in  it,  that  he  might  be  able  to  form  some  idea  of  the 
sufferings  which  he  recorded  in  his  Lametit  of  Tasso. 

Less  than  sixty  years  ago  the  insane  were  treated  with 
the  utmost  inhumanity  as  accursed  of  God;  and  the 
asylums  in  which  they  were  shut  up  were  dismal  prisons, 
where  the  unfortunate  inmates  were  left  in  a  state  of  the 
utmost  filth,  or  were  chained  and  lashed  at  the  caprice  of 
savage  keepers.  The  madhouse  which  Hogarth  drew 
will  aid  us  in  forming  a  conception  of  an  Italian  asylum 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  which  was  much  worse  than 
anything  known  in  our  country.  The  other  inmates 
of  the  hospital  of  St.  Anne  suffered  much  doubtless ; 
but  they  were  really  mad,  and  were  therefore  unconscious 
of  their  misery.  But  that  alleviation  was  wanting  in 
the  case  of  Tasso.  He  was  sane  and  conscious,  and  his 
sanity  intensified  the  horror  of  his  situation,  "enabling 
him  to  gauge  with  fearful  accuracy  the  depths  of  the 
abyss  into  which  he  had  fallen."  One  glimpse  of  him 
is  given  to  us  by  Montaigne,  who  visited  the  cell,  where 
it  seems  the  unfortunate  inmate  was  made  a  show  of  to 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


299 


all  whom  curiosity  or  pity  attracted   to   the  hospital. 
"  I  had  even  more  indignation  than  compassion  when  I 
saw  him  at  Ferrara  in  so  piteous  a  state— a  living  shadow 
of  himself"     His  jailer  was  Agostino   Mosti,  who,  al- 
though he  was  himself  a  man  of  letters,  and  therefore 
should   have   sympathised  with  Tasso,  on  the  contrary 
carried  out  to  the  utmost  the  cruel  commands  of  his 
prince,  and  by  his  harsh  language  and  unceasing  vigil- 
ance immensely  aggravated  the  sufferings  of  his  victim. 
This    inhuman    persecution    was    caused    by    Mosti's 
jealously  of  Tasso  as  the  rival  of  his  beloved   master 
Ariosto,  to  whom  at  his  own    cost  he  had  erected  a 
monument  in  the  church  of  the  Benedictines  at  Ferrara. 
For  a  whole  year  Tasso  endured  all  the  horrors  of  the 
sordid  cell  in  which  he  was  immured.     After  a  while  he 
was  removed  to  a  larger  apartment,  in  which  he  could 
walk  about ;  and  permission  was  granted  to  him  sometimes 
to  leave  the  hospital  for  part  of  a  day.     But  whatever 
alleviations  he  might  thus  have  occasionally  enjoyed,  he 
was  for  seven  long  years  a  prisoner  in  the  asylum,  tantalised 
by  continual  expectations  held  out  to  him  of  approach- 
ing  release.      One   person    only — the    nephew   of  his 
churlish  jailer — acted  the  part  of  the  Good  Samaritan 
towards  him,  cheered  his  solitude,  wrote  for  him,  and 
transmitted  the  letters  of  complaint  or  entreaty  which  he 
addressed  to  his  friends,  and  which  would  otherwise  have 
been  suppressed  or  forwarded  to  his  relentless  enemy. 
His  sufferings  increased  as  the  slow  weary  months  passed 
on,  so  that  we  need  not  wonder  that  the  last  years  of  his 
captivity  should  sometimes  have  been  overclouded   by 
visions  of  a  tormenting  demon,  of  flames  and  frightful 
noises,  with  an  apparition  of  the  Virgin  and  Child  sent 
to  comfort  him.     That  he  should  have   been  able  to 
preserve   the  general   balance    of  his  mind    at   all   in 
circumstances  sufficient  to  unseat  the  reason  of  most  men, 
is  a  convincing  proof  of  the  stability  of  his  intellect,  and 
his  unshaken  trust  in  the  God  of  the  sorrowful.     While 
we  think  of  this  protracted  cruelty  of  the  author  of  his 


II 


30O 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


imprisonment,  it  is  some  consolation  to  know  that  he 
met  with  what  we  may  well  call  a  merited  retribution. 
Alfonso,  as  Sir  John  Hobhouse  tells  us,  in  spite  of  his 
haughty  splendour,  led  an  unhappy  life,  and  was  deserted 
in  the  hour  of  death  by  his  courtiers,  who  suffered  his 
body  to  be  interred  without  even  the  ceremonies  that 
were  paid  to  the  meanest   of  his   subjects.      His  last 
wishes  were  neglected ;  his  will  was  cancelled.     He  was 
succeeded  by  the  descendant  of  a  natural  son  of  Alfonso 
I.,   the  husband   of  Lucrezia   Borgia;    and  he,   falhng 
under  the  displeasure  of  the  Vatican,  was  excommuni- 
cated;   and   Ferrara,    having    been   claimed   by   Pope 
Clement  VHI.  as  a  vacant  fief,  passed  away  for  ever 
from  the  house  of  Este. 

"The  link 
Thou  formcst  in  his  fortunes  bids  us  think 
Of  thy  poor  mahce,  naming  thee  with  scorn, 
Alfonso  !     How  thy  ducal  pageants  shrink 
From  thee  !  if  in  another  station  born, 
Scarce  fit  to  be  the  slave  of  him  thou  mad'st  to  mourn. 

At  no  period  of  his  life  was  the  mind  of  Tasso  more 
active  than  during  his  imprisonment.     In  the  absence 
of  all  nourishment   from   the   bright  world   of   Nature 
which  he  loved  so  passionately,  his  fancy  could  grow 
and  keep  itself  leafy,  like  the  cress-seed,  which  germin- 
ates and  produces  its  anti-scorbutic  foliage  on  a  bit  of 
flannel  moistened  with  water,  without  any  contact  with 
soil  or  sunlight,  in  the  long  Arctic  night  of  the  ice-bound 
ship.     With  the  ravings  of  madmen  ringing  in  his  ears, 
he  composed  some  of  the  most  beautiful  of  his  writings, 
both  in  prose  and  verse.     Among  the  manuscripts  of  the 
British  Museum  are  preserved  some'  of  these  writings, 
whose  withered  vellum  pages  we  turn   over  with   pro- 
found pity,  as  we  think  of  the  sad  circumstances  in 
which   they  were  composed.      The  most   valuable  of 
these  is  the  manuscript  of  the  Torrisjnondo,  in  Tasso  s 
own  handwriting,  and  in  the  original  parchment  binding. 
This  work  was  begun  before  his  imprisonment,  and  it 
was  not  finished  until  the  year  after  his  liberation ;  but 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


301 


the  greater  part  of  it  was  composed  in  the  wretchedness  of 
his  cell  at  Ferrara.     The  story  upon  which  it  is  founded 
is  a  very  harrowing  one,  a  king  of  the  Ostrogoths  marrying 
his  own  sister,  mistaking  her  for  a  foreign  princess ;  but 
it  is  treated  with  very  inadequate  tragic  power,  and,  like 
the  Aminta,  displays  no  real  action.     Its  beauty  chiefly 
consists  in  its  choral  odes  on  the  vanity  of  all  earthly 
things,  which  are  exquisitely  sad  and  touching.      We 
hear  in  them  the  wild  wail  of  the  poet  over  his  own  mis- 
fortunes, and  the  vanishing  of  the  dreams  of  glory  which 
haloed  his  life.      The  chorus  with  which   the  tragedy 
winds  up— "Ahi!  lagrime;   Ahi !  dolore"— the  words 
appropriately  carved  upon  his  tombstone  at  St.  Onofrio 
—is  unspeakably  pathetic.     It  is  his  own  dirge,  the  cry 
of  a  heart  whose  strings  are  about  to  break.     It  is  as 
untranslatable  as  the  sigh  of  the  wind  in  a  pme  forest. 
If  the  words  are  changed,  the  spell  is  lost,  and  the  way 
to  the  heart  is  missed. 

At  last  the  solicitations  of  the  most  powerful  princes 
of  Italy  on  Tasso's  behalf  overcame   the   tenacity  of 
Alfonso's  will,  and  the  victim  was  released;   but  not 
till  he  had  become  so  weak  and  ill  that,  if  the  imprison- 
ment had  continued  a  little  longer,  death  would  inevit- 
ably have  opened  the  door  for  him.     When  the  order 
for  his  liberation  had  been  obtained,  his  friends  made 
known  to  him  by  slow  degrees  the  glad  tidings,  lest  a 
too  sudden  shock  should  prove  fatal     He  was  now  free 
to  go  wherever  he  pleased,  and  to  behold  the  beauties 
of  Nature,  which  had  been  the  mirage  of  his  prison 
dreams ;  but  the  elasticity  of  his  spirits  was  gone  for 
ever;  the  bow  had  been  too  long  bent  to  recover  its 
original  spring,  and  the  memory  of  his  sufferings  haunted 
him  continually,  and  cast  a  dark  shadow  over  everything. 
He  could  not  altogether  shake  off  the  fear  that  he  was 
still  in  Alfonso's  power,  and  wherever  he  went  he  fancied 
that  an  officer  was  in  pursuit  of  him  to  drag  him  back  to 
the  foul  prison  in  St.  Anne's.     A  modern  Italian  poet, 
Aleardo  Aleardi,  has  graphically  described  the  feelings 


302 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


303 


of  the  gentle  poet-knight,  roaming,  pale  and  dishevelled, 
as  a  mendicant  from  door  to  door.  But  the  sufferings 
that  had  thus  maimed  him  bodily  and  mentally  had 
spiritually  ennobled  him;  and  there  is  not  a  more 
touching  incident  in  all  history  than  his  entreaty  to  be 
allowed  to  kiss  the  hand  of  the  cruel  tyrant,  as  a  last 
favour  before  leaving  Ferrara  for  ever,  in  token  of  his 
gratitude  for  the  benefits  conferred  upon  him  in 
happier  days, — a  favour  which  Alfonso,  to  his  eternal 
disgrace,  refused  to  grant. 

At  first  Tasso  took  up  his  abode  at  the  court  of  the 
Duke  of  Mantua,  whose  son,  Vincenzo  Gonzaga,  had 
been  the  principal  instrument  in  his  release,  on  the 
occasion  of  his  marriage  with  the  sister  of  Alfonso  of 
Ferrara.  This  Vincenzo  Gonzaga  is  shown  by  the  light 
of  history  in  two  opposite  characters  :  as  the  generous 
friend  and  patron  of  Tasso,  and  as  the  pupil  of  the 
Admiral)le  Crichton,  who  in  a  midnight  brawl  slew  his 
tutor  in  circumstances  of  the  utmost  baseness  and 
treachery.  For  a  while  Tasso  was  treated  with  great 
kindness  at  Mantua,  but,  the  father  dying,  the  son  no 
sooner  ascended  the  ducal  throne  than,  with  the  caprici- 
ousness  peculiar  to  Italian  princes,  he  turned  his  back 
upon  the  poet  whom  he  had  formerly  befriended.  The 
incident  I  have  mentioned  would  have  prepared  us  for 
this  dastardly  conduct ;  the  evil  side  of  his  nature,  which 
was  kept  in  abeyance  during  his  political  pupilage,  assum- 
ing the  predominance  on  his  accession  to  power.  Tasso's 
proud  spirit  could  not  endure  the  neglect  of  his  once 
ardent  friend,  and  he  set  out  again  into  the  cold  inhos- 
pitable world,  imploring  in  his  great  poverty  from  a 
former  patron  the  loan  of  ten  scudi,  to  pay  the  expenses 
of  his  journey  to  Rome.  On  the  way  he  turned  aside 
to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  Loretto,  in  order  to  satisfy  that 
earnest  religious  feeling  which  had  been  the  inspiration 
of  his  genius,  but  the  bane  of  his  life.  The  searching 
scrutinies  and  the  solemn  acquittals  of  the  inquisitors  of 
Bologna,  Ferrara,  and  the  great  tribunal  of  Rome  itself, 


had  not  satisfied  his  morbid  mind.  And  he  thought 
that  he  might  get  that  peace  of  conscience  which  no- 
thing else  could  give  by  a  visit  to  the  Casa  Santa — the 
house  of  the  Virgin  Mary  at  Loretto.  Worn  out  by  the 
long  journey,  which  he  made  in  the  old  fashion  on  foot, 
he  knelt  in  prayer  before  the  magnificent  shrine;  and 
thus,  admitted  as  it  were  within  the  domestic  enclosure 
of  the  holy  household,  he  felt  that  the  Blessed  Virgin 
had  given  him  that  calmness  and  repose  of  heart  which 
he  had  not  known  since  he  had  prayed  as  a  boy  beside 
his  mother's  knee.  Strengthened  by  the  successful 
accomplishment  of  his  vow,  he  went  on  to  Rome  ;  but 
the  stern  Sixtus  V.,  who  was  now  upon  the  Papal  throne, 
was  too  much  occupied  with  the  architectural  recon- 
struction of  Rome,  and  with  the  suppression  of  brig- 
andage in  the  Papal  States,  to  bestow  any  attention 
upon  literature;  and  Tasso  had  lost  whatever  energy 
he  once  possessed  to  assert  his  claims  to  recognition 
among  the  multitude  of  sycophants  at  the  Vatican. 

Sick  at  heart,  he  left  the  imperial  city,  and  directed 
his  steps  to  Naples,  in  the  hope  that  on  the  spot  he 
might  succeed  in  recovering  his  father's  possession  and 
his  mother's  dowry.  But  here,  too,  the  same  ill-fortune 
that  had  hitherto  dogged  his  steps  attended  him.  The 
lawsuit  which  he  instituted,  though  it  promised  well  at 
first,  proved  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  which  lured  him  into  the 
bog  of  absolute  penury.  His  sister  was  dead;  his 
mother's  relatives,  formerly  hostile,  were  now,  because 
of  the  lawsuit,  doubly  embittered  against  him.  In  his 
distress  he  sought  refuge  in  the  Benedictine  monastery 
of  Monte  Oliveto,  which  is  now  occupied  by  the  offices 
of  the  Municipality  of  Naples,  and  the  monastery  garden 
converted  into  a  market-place.  Here,  in  one  of  the 
finest  situations  in  Naples,  commanding  one  of  the  love- 
liest views  in  the  world,  and  in  the  congenial  society  of 
the  monks,  his  shattered  health  was  recruited,  and  his 
mind  tranquillised  by  the  beauties  of  Nature  and  the 
exercises  of  religion.      He  repaid  the  kindness  of  his 


fmsmpmrnf 


304 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


hosts  by  writing  a  poem  on  ^^^  «7"  ^V  f  .n^net  ' 
and  by  addressing  to  them  one  of  his  best  sonnets 
Among  the  visitors  who  sought  him  out  in  this  retreat 
was  John  Battista  Manso,  Marquis  of  Villa,  who  after- 
wards became  his  biographer.    This  accomplished  noble- 
man, -whose  name  the  friendship  and  Latin  hexameers 
of  Milton  have  rendered  at  once  familiar  and  musical  to 
English  ears,"  was  by  far  the  kindest  and  most  consistent 
patron  that  Tasso  ever  met  with.     He  loaded  him  with 
presents,  and  showed  him  the  most  delicate  and  thought- 
ful attentions  during  Tasso's  visit  at  his  beautiful  villa  on 
the  seashore  near  Naples.      He  took  him  wi  h  him  to 
his  tower  of  Bisaccio,  where  he  remained  all  October 
and  November,  spending  his  days,  with  great  advantage 
to  his  health,  in  hunting,  and  his  nights  m  music  and 
dancing,  taking  special  delight  in  the  marvellous  per- 
formances of  the  improvisator!.     Milton's  acquaintance 
with  Manso  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  fortun- 
ate incidents  of  his  foreign  travels,  inasmuch  as  his  con- 
versations about  Tasso  are  supposed  to  have  suggested 
to  him  the   design  of  writing    an  epic  work  like  the 
Gerusakmme ;  and  indeed  Milton  is  supposed  to  have 
borrowed  some  of  his  ideas  for  Paradise  Lost  from  the 
Sette  Giornate,  or  Seven  Days  of  Creation,  a  fragnientary 
poem  in  blank  verse,  which  Tasso  began  under  the  roof 
of  his  friend  at  Naples.     This  work  is  now  veiy  httle 
known,  but  it  is  worthy  of  being  read,  if  only  for  the 
lofty  dignity  of  its  style,  and  the  beauty  of  some  of  its 
descriptive  parts,  particularly  the  creation  of  light  on  the 
first  day,  and  of  the  firmament  on  the  second,  and  the 
episode  of  the  Phoenix  on  the  fifth.     Its  association  with 
Milton's  far  grander  work,  as  literary  twins  laid  for  a 
while  in  the  same  cradle,  will  always  invest  it  with  deep 
interest  to  the  student. 

Tasso  occupied  himself  at  the  same  time  with  an 
altered  version  of  his  great  poem,  which  he  called  the 
Gerusakmme  Conquistata.  He  was  induced  to  under- 
take this  work  in  order  to  triumph  over  his  truculent 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


305 


critics,   the  Delia  Cruscans,  who  had  condemned  the 
former  version.     In  the  Imperial  Library  at  Vienna  is 
preserved  the  manuscript  of  this  version,  with  its  numer- 
ous   alterations    and    erasures,    showing    how    laborious 
the  task  of  remodelling  must  have  been.     He  suppressed 
the  touching  incident  of  Olinda  and  Sophronia.      He 
changed  the  name  of  Rinaldo  to  Riccardo;  and  ruth- 
lessly swept  his  pen  through  all  the  flatteries,  direct  and 
indirect,   which   he  had  originally  bestowed  upon  the 
house  of  Este.     There  is  hardly  a  single  stanza  that  is 
jiot  changed.     But  in  the  process  of  revision  he  deprived 
his  poem  of  all  life.      Religious  mysticism   has  been 
substituted  for  the  refined  chivalry  of  the  Crusades,  and 
poetry  and  romance  have  been  sacrificed  for  classical 
regularity  and  religious  orthodoxy.     To  any  one  familiar 
with  the  original,  the   Cofiquistata  must  be  regarded  as 
the  most  melancholy  book  in  any  language ;  a  sad  monu- 
ment of  a  noble  genius  robbed  of  its  power  and  depressed 
by  calamity.      And  it  is  all  the  more  melancholy  that 
the  author  himself  was  utterly  unconscious  of  its  defects, 
and  got  so  enamoured  of  what  he  considered  his  im- 
provements, that  he  wrote  and  published  a  discourse 
called  the  Giudizio — a  cold  pedantic  work,  in  which  he 
explained  the  principles  upon  which  he  made  his  alter- 
ations.    In  vain,  however,  did  the  author  thus  commit 
literary  suicide.     His  immortal  poem  had  passed  beyond 
the  reach  of  revision,  and  stamped  itself  too  deeply  upon 
the  minds  and  hearts  of  his  countrymen  to  be  effaced  by 
any  after  version.       And  now  the   Conquistata  has  sunk 
into   well -merited  oblivion,  while   the   Liberata — "his 
youthful  poetical  sin,"  as  he  himself  called  it — is  every- 
where admired  as  one  of  the  great  classics  of  the  world. 
For  nine  years  Tasso  lived  after  his  imprisonment. 
But  his  free  life  was  only  a  Httle  less  burdensome  than 
his  prison  one.     With  impaired  health  and  extinguished 
hope,   and  only  the  wreck    of  his  great    intellect,  he 
wandered  a  homeless  pilgrim  from  court  to  court,  drawn 

hke  a 

X 


moth  to  the  brilliant  flame  that  had  wrought  his 


3o6 

ruin. 


CHAP. 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 
Well  would  it  have  been  for  him  had  he  settled 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


307 


down  to  some    quiet  independent   pursuit  that  would 
have  taken   him  away  from   the    atmosphere   of   court 
life    altogether,    such    as    the    Professorship    of   Poetry 
and    Ethics    which    had  been    offered    to  him  by   the 
Genoese  Academy.     But  the  habits  of  a  whole  lifetime 
could  not  now  be  given  up.     His  education  and  training 
had  fitted  him  for  no  other  mode  of  life.      Without  the 
patronage  of  the  great,  literature  in  those  days  had  not 
a  chance  of  success ;   and  a  thousand  incidents  in  the 
life  of  Tasso  serve  to  show  that  "genius  was  considered 
the  property,  not  of  the  individual,  but  of  his  patron    ; 
and  with    petty  meanness  was   the  reward  allotted  for 
this  appropriation  dealt   out.      His  experience  of  the 
favour  of  princes  at  this  period  was  only  a  repetition  of 
his  own  earlier  one,  and  that  of  his  father.     His  patrons 
one  after  another,  got  tired  of  him  ;  and  yet  he  persisted 
in  soliciting  their  favour.     From  the  door  of  his  former 
friend,  Cardinal  Gonzaga,  at  Rome,  he  was  turned  away ; 
and  as  a  fever-stricken  mendicant  he  sought  refuge  in 
the    Bergamese    Hospital    of  that   city,  founded  by   a 
relative  of  his  own,  who  little  thought  that  it  would  one 
day  afford  an  asylum   to   the   most   illustrious  of  his 

""^^But  fate  had  now  discharged  its  last  evil  arrow  and 
began  to  relent  during  the  two  remaining  years  of  his 
hfe      The  sun  that  was  all  day  obscured,  as  it  struggled 
with  dark  clouds,  emerged  at  last,  and  made  the  western 
sky  ablaze  with  splendour.     All  over  the  country  no- 
thing was  to  be  heard  but  the  echoes  of  Tasso  s  praises 
From   the  fountains    of  the    Adige   to   the    Straits    of 
Messina,  in  the  valleys  of  Savoy,  and  in  the  capitals 
of  Spain  and  France,   his  immortal  epic  was  read  or 
recited  by  the  highest  and  the  lowest.     Fortunes  were 
made  by  its  sale.     The  famous  bandit  Sciarra  who  with 
his  troop  of  robbers  had  terrified  the  whole  of  Southern 
Italy,  hearing  that  Tasso  was  at  Gaeta,  on  his  journey 
from  Naples  to    Rome,  sent   to  compliment  him,  and 


offer  him,  not  only  a  free  passage,  but  protection  by 
the  way.  At  Florence,  whither  he  went  at  the  invitation 
of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  the  whole  literary 
society  of  the  place,  even  including  many  of  the  Delia 
Cruscans,  showered  honours  upon  him.  While  at  Rome 
Pope  Clement  VHI.  gave  him  the  most  flattering  re- 
ception, assigned  to  him  an  apartment  in  the  Vatican, 
and  an  annual  income  of  two  hundred  scudi.  From  the 
representatives  of  his  mother's  friends  at  Naples  he  was 
also  offered  an  annuity  of  two  hundred  ducats,  and  a 
considerable  sum  in  hand,  on  condition  of  stopping 
the  lawsuit.  Thus  furnished  with  what  he  had  vainly 
looked  for  all  his  life,  the  means  of  a  comfortable 
subsistence,  his  closing  days  promised  a  happiness  to 
which  he  had  hitherto  been  a  stranger.  But  the  gifts 
of  fortune  were  brought  to  him  with  sad  auguries,  like 
the  soft  sunny  smiles  of  September  skies,  which  gild  the 
fading  leaves  with  a  mockery  of  May.  Tasso  came  to 
Rome  in  November.  But  the  state  of  his  health  was 
so  deplorable  that  he  could  not  remain  with  safety  in 
the  room  assigned  to  him  in  the  Vatican.  It  was 
thought,  therefore,  that  the  elevated  position  and 
salubrious  air,  as  well  as  the  quiet  life  of  the  monastery 
of  St.  Onofrio,  not  far  off  on  the  same  side  of  the  Tiber, 
would  be  more  suitable  for  his  restoration.  Accordingly, 
Cardinal  Cynthio  Aldobrandini,  nephew  of  Clement 
VIII.,  who  had  befriended  him  on  many  occasions, 
brought  him  to  St.  Onofrio  in  his  own  carriage.  And 
as  his  weary  steps  crossed  the  threshold,  he  said  to  the 
monks,  who  received  him  with  pitying  looks,  "  I  come 
to  die  among  you." 

Whenever  he  was  able  to  go  out,  he  spent  the  last 
days  of  his  life  in  the  garden  of  the  monastery.  There 
he  sat  under  the  shadow  of  the  aged  oak  that  has  since 
become  historical ;  and  as  he  watched  the  sunset  of  his 
life,  he  would  gaze  upon  the  mighty  ruins  and  the 
glorious  view  stretching  before  him  with  that  inspired 
vision  which  creates  half  the  beauty  it  beholds,  and  with 


3o8 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


that  enhanced  appreciation  caused  by  the  prospect  of 
the  coming  darkness  which  would  hide  it  for  ever  from 
his  sight.  We  love  to  think  of  the  poet  in  this  quiet 
resting-place,  where  the  noises  of  the  great  world  reached 
him  only  in  subdued  murmurs.  Heaven  was  above  him, 
and  the  world  beneath.  The  memory  of  his  wrongs 
and  his  ambitions  alike  vanished  in  the  shadow  cast 
before  by  his  approaching  death.  Alfonso  and  Ferrara 
faded  away  upon  the  horizon  of  eternity ;  even  the  fame 
of  his  Gerusalemme,  the  great  object  for  which  he  had 
lived,  had  become  utterly  indifferent  to  him.  In  the 
monastery  of  St.  Onofrio,  a  bent,  sorrow-stricken  man, 
old  before  his  time,  joining  with  the  monks  in  the  duties 
of  religion,  Tasso  appeals  more  powerfully  to  our  feelings 
than  when  in  the  full  flush  of  youth  and  happiness  he 
shone  the  brightest  star  in  the  royal  court  of  Alfonso. 

Awakening  to  the  sense  of  the  great  loss  that  Italy 
was  about  to  sustain  in  his  death,  his  friends  and 
admirers  proposed  that  the  Pope  should  confer  upon 
him  at  the  Capitol  the  laurel  wreath  that  had  crowned 
the  brow  of  Petrarch.  But  the  weather  during  the 
winter  proved  singularly  unpropitious  for  such  a  cere- 
mony. Rain  fell  almost  every  day,  and  constant  sirocco 
winds  depressed  the  spirits  of  the  people  and  prevented 
all  outdoor  enjoyments.  And  thus  the  season  wore  on 
till  April  dawned  with  the  promise  of  brighter  skies,  and 
the  day  was  fixed,  and  all  the  elite  of  Rome  and  of  the 
chief  cities  of  Italy  were  invited  to  attend  the  coronation. 
Extensive  preparations  were  made ;  the  whole  city  was 
in  a  flutter  of  excitement,  and  the  people  looked  forward 
to  a  holiday  such  as  Rome  had  not  seen  since  the  days 
of  the  Cffisars.  But  by  this  time  the  poet  was  dying, 
fever-wasted,  in  his  lonely  cell.  He  could  see  from  his 
window,  as  he  lay  propped  up  with  pillows  on  his  narrow 
couch,  across  the  river  and  its  broad  valley  crowded 
with  houses,  the  slender  campanile  of  Michael  Angelo 
ascending  from  the  Capitoline  Hill,  marking  the  spot 
where  at  the  moment  the  people  were  busy  preparing 


IX 


ST.  ONOFRIO  AND  TASSO 


309 


for  the  magnificent  ceremony  of  the  morrow.  But  not 
for  him  was  the  triumph ;  it  came  too  late.  "  To- 
morrow," he  said,  "  I  shall  be  beyond  the  reach  of  all 
earthly  honour."  He  received  the  last  rites  of  the 
Church  from  the  hands  of  the  diocesan,  and  passed 
quietly  away  with  the  unfinished  sentence  upon  his  lips, 
"  Into  thy  hands,  O  Lord,"  while  the  concluding  strains 
of  the  vesper  hymn  were  chanted  by  the  monks.  And 
they  who  came  on  the  morrow,  to  summon  him  to  his 
coronation,  found  him  in  the  sleep  of  death.  The 
laurel  wreath  that  was  meant  for  his  brow  was  laid  upon 
his  coffin,  as  it  was  carried  on  the  very  day  of  his  in- 
tended coronation,  with  great  pomp,  cardinals  and 
princes  bearing  up  the  pall,  and  deposited  in  the 
neighbouring  church  of  the  monastery.  Ever  since,  the 
anniversary  of  his  death  has  been  religiously  kept  by  the 
monks  of  St.  Onofrio.  They  throw  open  on  that  day, 
the  25  th  of  April,  the  monastery  and  garden  to  the 
general  public ;  ladies  are  freely  admitted,  and  a  festival 
is  observed,  during  which  portions  of  the  poet's  writings 
are  read,  his  relics  exhibited,  and  his  tomb  wreathed 
with  flowers. 

Tasso  died,  like  Virgil  his  model,  in  his  fifty-first 
year.  Short  and  chequered  and  full  of  trouble  as  was 
his  life,  it  is  amazing  what  an  immense  amount  of  liter- 
ary work  he  accomplished.  Since  the  publication  of 
his  Rinaldo,  in  his  seventeenth  year,  he  never  ceased 
writing,  even  in  the  most  unfavourable  circumstances. 
Of  his  prose  and  poetical  works  no  less  than  twenty-five 
volumes  remain  to  us.  These  works  are  all  rich  in 
biographical  materials.  They  show  an  ideal  tenderness 
of  feeling,  an  intense  love  for  everything  beautiful,  and 
a  deep  piety,  not  only  of  sentiment  but  of  duty.  They 
are  specially  interesting  to  us  as  links  connecting  the 
ancient  world  with  the  modern.  We  can  trace  the  in- 
fluence of  Tasso's  genius  in  very  varied  quarters.  He 
not  only  gave  a  new  impulse  to  the  literature  of  his  own 
country,  but  even   inspired  the  artistic  productions  of 


3IO 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP.  IX 


the  day.  The  most  beautiful  passages  of  Spenser's 
Faerie  Queen  were  suggested  by  his  pastoral  poetry; 
while  his  chivalrous  epic  was  to  Milton  at  once  the 
incentive  and  the  model  of  his  own  immortal  work. 
It  is  probable  that  the  New  Heloise  of  Rousseau,  and 
the  tragedy  of  Zaire  by  Voltaire,  would  not  have  been 
written  had  not  Tasso  invested  the  subject  of  romantic 
love  and  of  the  Crusades  with  such  a  deep  interest  to 
the  authors.  We  of  this  age  may  miss  in  Tasso's 
poetical  works  the  dramatic  force  to  which  we  are 
accustomed  in  such  productions  ;  but  we  acknowledge 
the  spell  which  the  lyrical  element  that  pervades  them 
all,  and  towards  which  Tasso's  genius  was  most  strongly 
bent,  casts  over  us.  His  own  personal  history  strikingly 
illustrates  the  vanity  of  a  life  spent  in  dependence  upon 
princes.  But  fortunately  the  lesson  is  no  longer  needed  ; 
for  a  wide  and  intelligent  constituency  of  readers  all 
over  the  world  now  afford  the  patronage  to  literature 
which  was  formerly  the  special  privilege  of  single  indi- 
viduals favoured  by  rank  or  fortune.  Both  to  authors 
and  readers  this  emancipation  has  been  productive  of 
the  happiest  results. 


CHAPTER   X 


THE    MARBLES    OF    ANCIENT    ROME 

Marble-hunting  is  one  of  the  regular  pursuits  of  the 
visitor  in  Rome.     The  ground  in  almost  every  part  of 
the  ancient  city  is  strewn  with  fragments  of  historical 
monuments.     The  largest  and  most  valuable  pieces  have 
long  since  been  removed  by  builders  and  sculptors,  to 
fashion  some  Papal  palace,  or  to  adorn  some  pretentious 
church ;  and  at  the  present  day,  in  almost  every  stone- 
mason's shed,  blocks  of  marble  belonging  to  ancient 
edifices   may  be  seen   in   process   of  conversion   into 
articles  of  modern  furniture.     Many  bits  of  the  rarest 
kinds,   however,   still   remain,   which   not   unfrequently 
bear  traces  of  the  richest  carving.     For  ages  such  spots 
have  been  quarries  to  visitors  from  all  parts  of  the  world, 
who   wished  to  bring   home    some   memorial  of  their 
sojourn  in  the  Eternal  City,  and  the  supply  is  still  far 
from  being  exhausted.     That  so  much  material  should 
have    survived   the    wholesale    conversion,    during   the 
middle  ages,  of  columns  and  statues  into  lime,  in  kilns 
erected  where  the  temples  and  palaces  were  most  crowded, 
and  the  vast  exportation  of  objects  of  antiquity  to  other 
countries,  is  a  striking  proof  of  the  prodigious  quantity 
of  marble   that  must  have  existed  in  ancient    Rome. 
Now,  however,  such  relics  are  more  carefully  preserved  ; 
and  as  the  places  where   they  are   found  in  greatest 
quantity    have    been    taken    under    the    charge    of  the 
Government,  and  soldiers  are  constantly  on  the  watch. 


l! 


312 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


313 


it  is  not  so  easy  as  it  used  to  be  to  abstract  a  fragment 
that  has  taken  one's  fancy. 

Marble  fragments  are  so  eagerly  sought  after  because 
they  make  most  suitable  and  convenient  souvenirs. 
Their  own  beauty  and  rarity,  apart  from  all  historical 
associations,  are  a  great  attraction.  Many  of  them  will 
form,  when  cut  and  polished  by  the  lapidary,  pretty 
tazzas  and  paper-weights,  and  even  the  smallest  bits  can 
be  put  together  in  a  mosaic  pattern,  so  as  to  make  ex- 
tremely beautiful  table -tops.  Whole  rows  of  lapidary 
shops  in  the  English  quarter  of  the  city,  especially  in 
the  Via  Babuino  and  the  Via  Sistina,  are  maintained  by 
this  curious  traffic.  In  the  Forum  and  Colosseum  great 
quantities  of  marble  and  alabaster  used  to  be  found ; 
but  these  localities  have  been  so  much  ransacked  that 
they  now  afford  very  scanty  gleanings.  The  Baths  of 
Caracalla  and  Titus,  the  recent  excavations  on  the 
Esquiline,  the  ruins  of  the  palaces  of  the  Caesars  on  the 
Palatine,  and  the  open  space  marked  out  for  new  squares 
and  streets  between  Sta.  Maria  Maggiore  and  St.  John 
Lateran,  are  the  best  situations  within  the  walls  of  the 
city.  Outside  the  supply  is  almost  as  large  as  ever. 
All  over  the  vast  Campagna  the  foot  of  the  wayfarer 
strikes  against  some  precious  or  beautiful  relic  ;  and  along 
the  Appian  and  Latin  Ways  broken  pieces  of  different 
kinds  may  be  found  in  such  profusion  that  such  spots 
look  like  the  rubbish-heap  around  a  marble  quarry.  In 
the  vast  grounds  over  which  the  imposing  ruins  of 
Hadrian's  Villa  spread,  heaps  of  fragments  of  marble 
flooring  or  casing  may  be  seen  in  almost  every  neglected 
corner,  from  which  it  is  easy  to  obtain  some  lovely  bit 
of  giallo  antico  or  pavonazzetto  or  green  porphyry. 
Beside  the  ancient  quay  of  Rome,  leading  to  the  ruins 
of  the  Emporium  or  Custom-house — at  a  spot  called  in 
modern  phrase  "  La  Marmorata,"  because  marble  vessels 
still  discharge  their  cargoes  there — immense  quantities 
of  marble,  alabaster,  and  porphyry  are  piled  up,  that 
were  unshipped  untold  ages  ago  for  Roman  use  ;  and  a 


vineyard  a  short  way  off,  on  the  slope  of  the  Aventine, 
is  much  frequented  by  collectors  on  account  of  the  rich- 
ness of  its  finds. 

But  it  is  not  as  a  mere  amusement,  or  as  a  means  of 
collecting  pretty  souvenirs  of  travel,  that  such  marble- 
hunting   expeditions  are  to  be  recommended.      They 
may  have  a  much  higher  value.     The  different  kinds  of 
marble  collected  are  peculiarly  interesting  owing  to  their 
association  with  the  different  epochs  of  the  history  of 
the  city  and  empire ;  and  as  the  specimens  which  the 
geologist  obtains  throw  light  upon  the  formation  of  the 
rocky  strata  of  the  earth,  so  the  small  marble  fragments 
which  the  student  finds  in  Rome  afford  a  clue  to  the 
various   stages   of  its   existence.      Indeed,  a  competent 
knowledge  of  the  marbles  of  Rome  is  indispensable  to  a 
clear  understanding  of  the  age  of  its  ancient  monuments. 
An  immense  amount  of  controversy  has  raged  round 
some  remarkable  building  or  statue,  which  would  have 
been  prevented  had  the  nature  and  origin  of  the  marble 
of  which  it  was  composed  been  first  investigated.     The 
famous  statue  of  the  Apollo  Belvedere  in  the  Vatican, 
for  instance,  was  long  regarded  as  an  original  production 
either  of  Pheidias  himself  or  of  his  school.      But  the  dis- 
covery that  the  marble  of  which  it  is  wrought  is  Lunar 
or  Carrara  marble — which  was  unknown  until  the  time 
of  Julius  Caesar,  who  first  introduced  it  into  Rome — is 
of  itself  a  proof  that  it  is  not  a  genuine  work  of  Greek 
art  of  the  best  period,  but  a  monument  of  the  decadence, 
or  a  copy  of  an  original,  wrought  in  imperial  times  for 
the  adornment  of  a  summer  palace  in  Italy.     In  num- 
berless other  cases,  ancient  monuments  have  been  identi- 
fied by  the  mineral  character  and  history  of  their  marble 
materials.     The  first  thing,  therefore,  which  the  student 
during  his  visit  to  the  city  ought  to  do,  is  to  make  him- 
self acquainted  with  the  different  varieties  of  marble  that 
have  been  found  within  the  walls  or  in  the  neighbour- 
hood     For  this  purpose  the  Museum  in  the  Collegio 
della  Sapienza  or  University  of  Rome  will  afford  invalu- 


t! 


314 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


315 


i 


able  aid.  In  this  institution,  conveniently  arranged  in 
glass  cases,  are  no  less  than  607  specimens  of  various 
marbles  and  alabasters  used  by  the  ancient  Romans  in 
the  building  or  decoration  of  their  houses  and  public 
monuments.  The  collection  was  made  by  the  late  Signor 
Sanginetti,  Professor  of  Mineralogy  in  the  University, 
and  is  quite  unique.  A  great  deal  of  instruction  may 
also  be  obtained  from  the  mineralogical  study  of  the 
thousands  of  marble  columns  still  standing  in  the  older 
churches  and  palaces  of  Rome,  most  of  which  have  been 
derived  from  the  ruins  of  ancient  temples  and  basilicas. 
Several  excellent  books  may  also  be  consulted  with 
advantage — especially  Faustino  Corsi's  Treatise  on  the 
Stones  of  Antiquity,  Trattato  delle  Pietre  Antiche^  which 
is  the  most  approved  Italian  work  on  the  subject,  and 
from  which  much  of  the  information  contained  in  the 
following  pages  has  been  obtained. 

No  marble  quarries  exist  in  the  vicinity  of  Rome. 
The  Sabine  Hills  are  indeed  of  limestone  formation,  and 
large  masses  of  travertine,  a  fresh -water  limestone  of 
igneous  origin,  occur  here  and  there,  but  no  mineral 
approaching  marble  in  texture  and  appearance  is  found 
within  a  very  considerable  radius  of  the  city.  The 
nearest  source  of  supply  is  at  Cesi,  near  the  celebrated 
"  Falls  of  Terni,"  about  forty -five  miles  from  Rome, 
where  "  Cotanella,"  the  red  marble  of  the  Roman  States, 
is  found,  of  which  the  great  columns  supporting  the 
arches  of  the  side  aisles  of  St.  Peter's  are  formed.  The 
hills  and  rocks  of  Rome  are  all  volcanic,  and  only  the 
different  varieties  of  eruptive  rock  were  first  employed 
for  building  purposes.  The  oldest  monuments  of  the 
kingly  period,  such  as  the  Cloaca  Maxima,  the  Mamertine 
Prison,  the  Walls  of  Servius  Tullius,  and  some  of  the 
earliest  substructures  on  the  Palatine  Hill,  were  all  built 
of  the  brown  volcanic  tufa  found  on  or  near  their  sites. 
This  is  the  material  of  which  the  famous  Tarpeian  Rock 
and  the  lower  part  of  most  of  the  Seven  Hills  is  com- 
posed.   It  is  the  oldest  of  the  igneous  deposits  of  Rome, 


and  seems  to  have  been  formed  by  a  conglomerate  of 
ashes  and  fragments  of  pumice  ejected  from  submarine 
volcanoes  whose  craters  have  been  completely  obliter- 
ated.     It  reposes  upon  marine  tertiary   deposits,   and 
over  it,  near  the  Church  of  Sta.  Agnese,  where  it  is  still 
quarried  for  building  stone,  rests  a  quaternary  deposit, 
in  which  numerous  remains  of  primeval  elephants  have 
been  found.    Though  the  Consular  or  Republican  period 
was  a  very  stormy  one,  and  the  reconstruction  of  the 
city,  after  its  partial  demoUtion  by  the  Gauls,  seems  to 
have  been  too  hurried  to  allow  much  attention  to  be 
paid  to  the  materials  and  designs  of  architecture,  yet 
there  are  numerous  indications  in  the  existing  remains 
of  that  period  that  there  was  a  decided  advance  in  these 
respects  upon  the  ruder  art  of  a  former  age.     Finer  and 
more  ornamental  varieties  of  volcanic  stone  were  intro- 
duced from  a  distance,  such  as  the  pcpcrino  or  grayish- 
green  tufa  of  the  Alban  Hills,  the  Lapis  Albamis  of  the 
ancients,  with  its  glittering  particles  of  mica  interspersed 
throughout  its  mass;   the  hard  basaltine  lava  from  a 
quarry  near  the  tomb  of  Caecilia  Metella,  on  the  Appian 
Way,  and  from  the  bed  of  the  Lago  della  Colonna,  once 
the  celebrated   Lake   Regillus,  to  which  the  name  of 
Lapis  Tusculanus  or   Selce  was   given;    and   the  Lapis 
Gahinus  or  Speronc,  a  compact  volcanic  concrete  found 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  ancient  Gabii  on  the  road 
to  Tivoli,  extensively  used  in  the  construction  of  the 
earliest  monuments,  particularly  the  Tabularium  and  the 
huge  Arco  de  Pantani.     Brick  was  also  krgely  employed 
in  the  construction  of  the  foundations  and  inner  walls 
of  public  buildings,  being  arranged  at  a  later  date  into 
ornamental  patterns,  to  which  the  names  of  opus  incer- 
tuiii  and  opus  reticuiatum  were  given ;  and  in  the  manu- 
facture of  this  substance,  which  they  were  probably  at 
first  taught  by  the   Etruscan   artificers   of  Veii  in  the 
neighbourhood,  the  Romans  reached  a  high  degree  of 
perfection.     The  earliest  tombs  along  the  Appian  Way 
were  constructed  of  these  different  varieties  of  building 


3i6 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


317 


materials.  The  sarcophagi  of  the  Scipios  were  hollowed 
out  of  simple  blocks  of  peperino  stone ;  and  the  sculptor's 
art  and  the  material  in  which  he  wrought  were  worthy 
of  the  severe  simplicity  of  the  heroic  age. 

But  towards  the  close  of  the  Republican  period, 
Rome  began  to  be  distinguished  for  the  magnificence 
of  its  public  monuments.  As  its  area  of  conquest  spread, 
so  did  its  luxury  increase.  New  divinities  were  introduced 
from  foreign  countries,  and  domesticated  in  the  Capitol ; 
and  these  required  more  sumptuous  fanes  than  those 
with  which  the  native  deities  had  been  contented.  The 
brown  tufa  of  the  Tarpeian  Rock  sufficed  for  the  rude 
sanctuary  of  Vesta,  the  primitive  hearth-stone  of  ancient 
Rome ;  but  in  the  reconstruction  of  the  sumptuous 
temple  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus,  which  marked  the  grandest 
period  of  Roman  history,  the  most  precious  stones  of 
Asia  and  Africa  were  employed.  Statues  were  imported 
wholesale  from  Greece  to  adorn  temples  and  theatres, 
constructed  after  the  models  of  Greek  architecture,  with 
pillars,  friezes,  and  floors  of  precious  Pentelic  and  Sicilian 
marble.  During  the  last  century  of  the  Republic  marble 
became  a  common  building-stone.  The  tomb  of  Caecilia 
Metella,  and  the  temples  of  Ceres,  Juno  Sospita,  and 
Castor  and  Pollux,  indicate  the  introduction  of  this 
precious  and  beautiful  material.  But  it  was  reserved 
for  the  period  ot  the  Empire  to  complete  the  architectural 
glories  of  the  city.  Travertine,  usually  called  Lapis 
Tiburtinus^  a  straw-coloured  volcanic  limestone  excavated 
in  the  plain  below  Tivoli,  which  has  the  useful  property 
of  hardening  on  exposure,  was  now  used  as  the  principal 
building-stone  instead  of  the  former  lavas  and  tufas ;  and 
the  Colosseum,  entirely  constructed  of  travertine,  which 
was  treated  in  the  middle  ages  as  a  quarry,  out  of  which 
were  built  many  of  the  palaces  and  churches  of  Rome, 
attests  to  this  day  the  beauty  and  durability  of  this 
material.  Quarries  of  crystalline  marbles,  admirably 
adapted  for  the  purposes  of  the  sculptor  and  architect, 
were  opened  in  the  range  of  the  Apennines  overlooking 


the  beautiful  Bay  of  Spezia,  in  the  vicinity  of  Carrara, 
Massa,  and  Seravezza,  and  largely  worked  in  the  time  of 
Augustus.  This  emperor  could  boast  that  he  had  found 
Rome  of  brick,  and  left  it  of  marble.  The  marbles  of  each 
new  territory  annexed  to  the  Empire  were  brought  at 
enormous  expense  into  the  Imperial  City.  A  quay,  to 
which  reference  has  already  been  made,  was  constructed 
at  the  broadest  part  of  the  Tiber,  where  the  vessels  that 
transported  marbles  from  Africa,  and  from  the  most  dis- 
tant parts  of  Eastern  Europe  and  Western  Asia,  landed 
their  cargoes.  Here  numerous  blocks  of  marble  were 
lately  found,  one  of  which  was  identified  as  that  sent  to 
Nero  from  a  quarry  in  Carinthia  ;  and  another,  a  column 
of  even  more  colossal  dimensions,  weighing  about  thirty- 
four  tons  of  valuable  African  marble,  was  meant  to  serve 
as  a  memorial  pillar  of  the  Council  of  1870  on  the 
Janiculum,  but  the  intention  was  never  carried  out.  So 
abundant  was  marble  during  the  first  two  centuries  of 
the  Empire,  that  it  was  nothing  accounted  of  Every 
temple,  palace,  and  public  edifice  was  built  of  it  either  in 
whole  or  in  part.  The  tombs  that  lined  the  Appian 
Way  on  either  side  for  fifteen  miles  had  their  brick  cores 
covered  with  marble  slabs ;  and  their  magnificence  must 
have  impressed  every  visitor  who  entered  the  Imperial 
City  through  this  avenue  of  architectural  glory  shrouding 
the  decays  of  death.  It  is  obvious,  then,  that  by  study- 
ing the  history  of  the  conquests  of  Rome,  the  student 
can  ascertain  at  what  period  a  particular  kind  of  marble 
was  introduced  from  its  native  country,  and  the  proximate 
date  of  the  building  in  which  this  marble  had  been  used. 
It  was  a  fortunate  circumstance  for  the  preservation 
of  the  precious  marbles  of  Rome  that  Christianity  laid 
its  cuckoo  egg  in  the  nest  of  the  Pagan  city.  When  the 
capture  of  Rome  by  Alaric  gave  the  final  blow  to  heathen 
worship,  by  the  overthrow  of  the  ruling  classes,  who 
alone  cherished  the  proud  memories  of  the  ancient  faith, 
the  greater  number  of  the  temples  were  still  standing 
without  any  one  to  look  after  the  edifices  or  maintain 


3i8 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


the  religious  services.       The  Christians  were  therefore 
free  to  take  possession  of  the  deserted  shrines  ;  and  they 
speedily  transferred  to  their  own  churches  the  columns 
and  marble  decorations  that  adorned  the  temples  of  the 
gods.     Many  of  the  precious  stones  that  once  beautified 
the  palaces  of  emperors  and  senators  were  employed  to 
form  the  altars  and  the  mosaic  flooring  of  the  memorial 
chapels.     Almost  all  the  early  churches  were  constructed 
on  or  near  the  sites  of  the  temples,  so  that  the  materials 
of  the  one  might  be  transported  to  the  other  with  the 
least  difficulty  and  expense,  just  as  the  settler  in  the  back- 
woods of  America  erects  his  log-house  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  trees  that  are  most  suitable  for  his  pur- 
pose.     And  the  striking   contrast   between  the  plain, 
mean  exteriors  of  the  oldest  Roman  churches — rough, 
time- stained,  and  unfinished  since  their  erection — and 
their  gorgeous   interiors,   with  their  forests  of  columns 
separating  the  aisles,  and  the  series  of  richly-sculptured 
and  brillantly-frescoed  chapels,  all  blazing  with  gold  and 
marble, — a  contrast  that  reminds  us  of  the  surprising 
difference  between  the  outside   of  a  common  clumsy 
geode  lying  in  the  mud,  and  the  sparkling  crystals  in 
the  drusic  cavity  at  the  heart  of  it, — would  lead  us  to 
infer  that  the  outer  walls  were  raised  in  haste  to  secure 
the  valuable  materials  on  the  spot,  before  they  could  be 
otherwise  appropriated.     Marangoni,  a  learned  Roman 
archaeologist,  mentions  thirty-five  churches  in  Rome  as 
all  raised  upon  the  sites  and  out  of  the  remains   of 
ancient   temples;   and  no  less  than  six  hundred  and 
eighty-eight  large  columns  of  marble,  granite,  porphyry, 
and  other  valuable  stones,  as  among  the  relics  of  heathen 
fanes  transferred  to  sacred  ground  within  the  city,  when 
the  bronze  Jupiter  was  metamorphosed  into  the  Jew  Peter, 

"  And  Pan  to  Moses  lent  his  pagan  horn." 
Many  of  these  relics  can  be  traced  and  identified,  for  it 
may  be  generally  presumed,  for  the  reason  already  given, 
that    none    are    very    far    removed    from   their   original 
situation. 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


319 


I  know  no  more  interesting  pursuit  in  Rome  than 
such  an  investigation ;  the  objects,  when  their  history  is 
ascertained,  acquiring  a  charm  from  association,  over 
and  above  their  own  intrinsic  beauty  and  interest.  Most 
of  the  materials  with  which  the  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  churches  of  modern  Rome  have  been  constructed 
have  been  derived  from  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  city. 
With  the  exception  of  a  few  comparatively  insignificant 
portions  brought  from  the  modern  quarries  of  Carrara, 
Siena,  and  Sicily,  to  complete  subordinate  details  and  to 
give  a  finish  to  the  work,  no  marbles,  it  is  said,  have  been 
used  in  ecclesiastical  and  palatial  architecture  for  the 
last  fifteen  hundred  years,  save  those  found  conveniently 
on  the  spot ;  and  hardly  a  brick  has  been  made  or  a 
stone  of  travertine  or  tufa  hewn  out  for  domestic  build- 
ings within  the  same  period.  The  construction  of  St. 
Peter's  itself  involved  more  destruction  of  classical 
monuments  than  all  the  appropriations  of  previous  and 
subsequent  Vandals  put  together.  Much  has  been  lost 
on  account  of  this  extraordinary  transmutation  and  re- 
consecration,  whose  loss  we  can  never  cease  to  deplore ; 
but  we  must  not  forget  at  the  same  time  that  much  has 
been  conserved  which  would  otherwise  have  wasted  away 
under  the  slow  ravages  of  time,  been  consigned  to  the 
lime-kiln,  or  disappeared  in  obscure  and  ignoble  use. 
Enough  remains  to  overwhelm  us  with  astonishment, 
and  furnish  materials  for  the  study  of  years. 

The  white  marbles  of  Greece  were  the  first  introduced 
into  Rome.  Paros  supplied  the  earliest  specimens,  and 
long  held  a  monopoly  of  the  trade.  Marmor  Parium,  or 
Marmo  Greco  duro,  as  it  is  called  by  the  modern 
Italians,  is  the  very  flower  and  consummation  of  the 
rocks.  This  material  seems  to  have  been  created  specially 
for  the  use  of  the  sculptor — as  that  in  which  he  can 
express  most  clearly  and  beautifully  his  ideal  conceptions ; 
and  the  surpassing  excellence  of  ancient  Greek  sculpture 
was  largely  due  to  the  suitability  for  high  art  of  the 
marble   of  the  country,  which  was  so  stainlessly  pure, 


320 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


321 


li 


I 


delicate,  and  uniform— as  Ruskin  remarks,  so  soft  as  to 
allow  the  sculptor  to  work  it  without  force,  and  trace  on 
it  his  finest  lines,  and  yet  so  hard  as  never  to  betray  the 
touch  or  moulder   away  beneath    the   chisel.      Parian 
marble  is  by  far  the  most  beautiful  of  the  Greek  marbles. 
It  is  a  nearly  pure  carbonate  of  lime  of  creamy  white- 
ness, with  a  finely  crystalline  granular  structure,  and  is 
nearly  translucent.     It  may  be  readily  distinguished  from 
all  other  white  marbles  by  the  peculiarly  sparkling  light 
that  shines  from  its  crystalline  facets  on  being  freshly 
broken ;  and  this  peculiarity  enables  the  expert  at  once 
to  determine  the   origin  of  any  fragment  of  Greek  or 
Roman  statuary.     The  ancient  quarries  in  the  island  of 
Paros  are  still  wrought,  though  very  little  marble  from 
this    source    is    exported    to    other    countries.      In    the 
entablature  around  the  tomb  of  Caicilia  Metella,  which  is 
composed  of  Parian  marble,  we  see  the  first  example  in 
Rome  of  the  use  of  ornaments  in  marble  upon  the  outside 
of  a  building  ;  an  example  that  was  afterwards  extensively 
followed,  for  all  the  tombs  of  a  later  age  on  the  Appian 
Way  had  their  exteriors  sheathed  with  a  veneer  of  marble. 
The  beautiful  sarcophagus  which  contained  the  remains 
of  the  noble  lady  for  whom  this  gigantic  pile  was  erected, 
and  which  is  now  in  the  Farnese  Palace,  was  also  formed 
of  this  material.     Most   beautiful   examples   of  Parian 
marble  may  be  seen  in  the  three  elegant  columns  of  the 
Temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux  in  the  Roman  Forum, 
belonging  to  the  best  period  of  Groeco-Roman  architecture; 
and  in  the  nineteen  fluted  Corinthian  pillars  which  form  the 
little  circular  temple  of  Hercules  on  the  banks  of  the 
Tiber,  long  supposed  to  be  the  Temple  of  Vesta.     By 
far  the  largest  mass  of  this  marble  in  Rome  is  the  colossal 
fragment  in  front  of  the  Colosseum  that  belonged  to  the 
Temple  of  Venus  and  Rome ;  and  it  helps  to  give  one 
an  idea  of  the  extraordinary  grandeur  and  magnificence 
of  this  building  in  its  prime,  whose  fluted  columns,  six  feet 
in  diameter,  and  the  sheathing  of  whose  outside  walls  of 
great  thickness,  were  all  made  of  Parian  marble. 


More  extensively  employed  in  Greek  and  Roman 
statuary  and  architecture  was  the  Marrnor  Fentclicimi,  or 
Marmo  Greco  fino  of  the  modern  Italians.     The  quarries 
which   yielded   inexhaustible    materials   for   the    public 
buildings    and    statues    of   Greece,    and    for    the   great 
monuments  of  Rome,  were  situated   on   the  slopes  of 
Mount  Pentelicus,  near  Athens  ;  and  after  having  been 
closed  for  ages,  have  recently  been  reopened  for  the 
restoration  of  some  of  the  buildings  in  the  Greek  capital. 
The  marble  is  dazzlingly  white  and  fine-grained,  but  it 
sometimes  contains  little  pieces  of  quartz  or  flint,  which 
give   some   trouble  to  the  workmen.     The  Parthenon, 
crowning  like  a  perfect  capital  of  human  art  the  summit 
of  Nature's  rough  workmanship  in  the   Acropolis,  was 
built   of  this   marble  ;    and   the   immortal   sculpture   of 
Pheidias  on  the  metopes,  the  frieze  of  the  cella,  and  the 
tympana  of  the  pediments  of  the  temple,  known  as  the 
Elgin  Marbles,  were  carved  out   of  a  material  worthy 
of  their  incomparable  beauty.     Innumerable  specimens 
at  one  time  existed  in  Rome.     The  arch  of  Septimius 
Severus  and  the  Arch  of  Titus  are  built  of  it,  although 
the  rusty  and  weather-beaten  hue  of  these  venerable 
monuments  hides  the  nature  of  the  material.     Domitian, 
who  restored  the  celebrated  Temple  of  Jupiter  on  the 
Capitol,  procured   columns  of  Pentelic  marble  for  the 
purpose  from  Athens ;  two  of  these  are  now  in  the  nave 
of  the  church  of  Ara  Coeli,  built  upon  the  site  of  the 
temple ;  and  portions  of  the  others,  and  of  the  marble 
decorations,  were  presented  by  the  magistrates  to  the 
Francisan   friars  of  the  neighbouring  convent,  and   by 
them  were  wrought  in  1348  into  the  conspicuous  staircase 
leading  to  the  fagade  of  the  church,  which  pious  Catholics 
used  to  mount  on  their  knees  in  the  manner  of  the 
ancient   worshippers    of  Jupiter.      Among    the    statues 
wrought  of  this  marble  may  be  mentioned  the  famous 
group  of  the  Laocoon  found  in  the  Baths  of  Titus  ;  the 
beautiful  Venus  de  Medici,  discovered  in  the  Villa  of 
Hadrian,  near  'I'ivoli,  and  now  in  the  Uflizi  Gallery  in 

Y 


I 


322 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Florence;  and  the  well-known  "  Farnese  Bull,"  sculptured 
out  of  a  single  block  of  huge  dimensions,  unearthed  out 
of  the  ruins  of  the  Baths  of  Caracalla,  and  now  in  the 
Museum  of  Naples.     Massimo  d'Azeglio,  in  his  Recollec- 
tions, gives  an  interesting  instance  of  the  value  set  upon 
this  marble  by  modern  Roman  sculptors.     Pacetti  having 
purchased  an  ancient  Greek  statue  ot  the  best  period  in 
Pentelic  marble,  greatly  mutilated,  and  wishing  to  repair 
it,  could  find  nothing  among  the  best  products  of  the 
Carrara  quarries  to  match  the  marble  in  purity  and  fineness 
of  texture,  and  was  therefore  obliged  to  destroy  another 
Greek  statue  of  inferior  merit  in  order  to  get  materials  for 
the  restoration.     From  this  combination  he  succeeded 
in  producing  the  sleeping  figure  known  as  the  Barberini 
Faun,  whose  forcible  abduction  by  the  Pontifical  Govern- 
ment'on  the  eve  of  its  being  sold  to  a  German  prince,  so 
preyed  upon  the  mind  of  the  cruelly-wronged  sculptor, 
that  he  took  to  his  bed  and  died. 

Very  like  Pentelic  marble,  but  easily  distinguishable, 

is  the  Marmor  Porinum,  the  Marmo  Grechetto  duro  of 

the  Italians.      It  is  intermediate  in  the  quality  of  its 

grain  between  Parian  and  Pentelic  marble,  being  finer 

than   the  former  and  not  so  fine   as  the  latter.     The 

column  in  front  of  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore, 

removed  by  Paul  V.  in    1614  from  the  Basilica  of  Con- 

stantine,  is  composed  of  this  species  ;    as  well  as  the 

celebrated  Torso  Belvedere  of  the  Vatican,  found  near 

the  site  of  the  Theatre  of  Pompey,  to  which  Michael 

Angelo  traced  much  of  his  inspiration,  and  which,  as  we 

learn  from  a  Greek  inscription  at  the  base,  was  the  work 

of  the    Rhodian  sculptor    ApoUonios,  who   carved    the 

group  of  the  "Farnese  Bull." 

Not  unlike  this  Porine  marble  was  the  Marmor 
Hymettium  of  the  ancients ;  but  it  was  never  a  great 
favourite  in  Rome  on  account  of  its  large  gram  and 
dingy  white  colour,  slightly  tinged  with  green  and 
marked  by  long  parallel  dark  gray  veins  of  unequal 
breadth.     The  metamorphic  action  was  not  sufficiently 


X 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


323 


energetic  to  destroy  the  last  traces  of  organic  matter  and 
the  original  stratification  of  the  rock  ;  and  the  crystal- 
lising force  was  not  sufficiently  exercised  to  allow  of  the 
entire  rearrangement  of  the  whole  of  the  particles  so  as 
to  expel  the  included  impurities.     This  marble  was  not 
therefore  fitted  for  sculpture  \  but  it  could  be  used  for 
certain  architectural   purposes  and    for   ornamentation. 
It  used  to  be  quarried  extensively  on   Hymettus,  the 
well-known    mountain    of    Attica,    celebrated    for    the 
quantity  and  excellence  of  its   honey.      The  rock  on 
which  the  aromatic  flowers  grew  in  such  profusion  for 
the    bees,    did    not,    however,    partake    of    the    same 
delightful  quality.     In  working  it  a  peculiar  fetid  odour 
of  sulphuretted  hydrogen,  somewhat  like  that  of  a  stale 
onion,    was    emitted,    which   gave   rise    to   its  modern 
Italian  name — Marmo  CipoUa.     This  repulsive  quality, 
however,  disappeared  quickly  on  exposure.      The  finest 
specimens    of   this  marble   in    Rome   are  the  forty -six 
columns  in  the  Church  of  St.  Paul's,  outside  the  gate, 
which  belonged  originally  to  the  Basilica  Emilia  in  the 
Forum,  founded  about  forty-five  years  before  Christ,  and 
were   transferred  to  the  new  building  when  the  vener- 
able old  church,  in  which  they  had   stood   for  fifteen 
hundred  years,  was  destroyed  by  fire.     Nothing  too  can 
be  finer  than  the  two  rows  of  Ionic  columns  of  Hymet- 
tian  marble  which  divide   the   immense  nave  of  Santa 
Maria  Maggiore  from  the  side  aisles.     There  are  eighteen 
on  either  side,  each  upwards  of  eight  feet  in  circumfer- 
ence, and  are  supposed  to  have  been  taken  from  the 
Temple  of  Juno  Lucina,  whose  site  is  assigned  by  anti- 
quaries to  the  immediate  vicinity.     Similar  rows  of  fluted 
Doric  columns  of  the  same  marble,  ten  on  each  side, 
adorn  the  Church  of  St.  Pietro  in  Vincoli.     They  are 
ancient,  and  belonged  to  some  temple  or  basilica  of  the 
Forum.     There  are  also  five  ancient  pillars  of  Hymettian 
marble  in  the  upper  Church  of  San  Clemente,  taken 
from  the  same  prolific  source.     The  wall  which  surrounds 
the  unique  choir  or  presbytery  of  this  most  interesting 


324 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


old  church  is  also  composed  of  great  slabs  of  Hymettian 
marble,  taken  from  the  original  subterranean  church  and 
hastily  put  together.  Some  of  the  ancient  pillars  of 
Hymettian  marble  belonging  to  the  peristyle  of  the 
temple  of  Ceres  and  Proserpine,  still  as  widely  spaced 
as  they  used  to  be,  adorn  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  in 
Cosmedin,  built  on  the  foundation  of  that  shrine ;  while 
twenty-four  remarkably  fine  fluted  Corinthian  columns 
of  the  same  material  divide  the  triple  nave  of  Santa 
Sabina  on  the  Aventine,  and  are  supposed  to  have  be- 
longed to  the  ancient  Temple  of  Juno  Regina,  erected 
by  Camillus  after  the  destruction  of  the  Etruscan  city  of 
Veii.  Hymettian  marble  was  one  of  the  first — if  not 
actually  the  first — species  introduced  into  Rome.  In 
the  year  of  Rome  662,  Lucius  Crassus  the  orator  brought 
to  the  city  six  columns  of  it,  each  twelve  feet  in  height, 
with  which  he  adorned  his  house  on  the  Palatine  Hill, 
receiving,  on  account  of  this  circumstance,  from  Marcus 
Brutus  the  nickname  of  the  Palatine  Venus.  At  the 
present  day  the  marble  is  used  for  corner-stones  in  the 
ordinary  houses  of  Athens. 

Another  livid  white  marble,  somewhat  resembling  the 
Hymettian,  is  that  which  is  known  to  the  Italians  as 
Marmo  Greco  livido.  It  was  called  by  the  ancients 
Marmor  Thasium,  from  Thasos,  now  Thapso,  an  island 
in  the  north  of  the  ^gean  Sea,  off  the  coast  of  Thrace. 
The  marble  dug  from  the  rocky  sides  of  Mount  Ipsario 
— a  romantic  hill  thickly  covered  with  fir  trees,  and  rising 
three  thousand  four  hundred  and  twenty-eight  feet  above 
the  sea — enjoyed  considerable  reputation  among  the 
ancients.  In  Rome  it  must  have  been  very  common,  if 
the  name  of  Thasian  is  to  be  given  to  all  the  fragments 
of  nondescript  dusky  white  marble  which  are  found 
among  the  ruins.  Seneca  says  that  the  fish-ponds  in 
his  day  were  formed  of  that  Thasian  marble,  with  which 
at  one  time  it  was  rare  to  adorn  even  temples.  It  was 
considered  the  least  valuable  of  the  white  Greek  marbles, 
and  was  used  for  the  more  ordinary  purposes  ;  Statius 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


325 


mentioning,  in  order  to  show  the  surpassing  splendour 
of  a  particular  building,  that  Thasian  marble  was  not 
admitted  into  it.  But  there  are  not  many  well-defined 
monuments  of  it  remaining  in  Rome.  The  chief  are 
the  bust  of  Euripides  in  the  Vatican,  and  the  outside 
casing  of  the  pyramid  of  Caius  Cestius,  near  the  Protest- 
ant cemetery,  now  so  weather-beaten  and  stained  with 
dusky  lichens  that  it  is  difficult  to  identify  the  material 
of  which  it  is  composed. 

From  this  marble,  by  a  slight  tinge  of  yellow  and  a 
little  darker  shade,  the  livid  white  marble  of  Lesbos,  the 
Mar7nor  Lesbiiwi,  or  Marmo  Greco  Giallognolo,  may  be 
distinguished.  It  is  not  a  beautiful  material ;  and  yet, 
strange  to  say,  the  statues  of  some  of  the  most  beautiful 
women  of  antiquity,  such  as  those  of  Julia  Pia  in  the 
Vatican,  and  of  the  Capitoline  Venus  in  the  Museum  of 
the  Capitol,  were  made  of  this  marble,  obtained  from 
the  birthplace  of  Sappho.  More  beautiful  is  the  kind 
known  as  the  Marmor  Tyrium^  or  the  Greco-Turchin- 
icchio,  which  has  a  light  bluish  tinge.  It  was  shipped 
by  the  ancients  at  the  port  of  Tyre  from  some  unknown 
quarry  in  Mount  Lebanon,  which  supplied  the  marble 
used  without  stint  in  the  building  and  decoration  of 
Solomon's  Temple  and  Palace.  In  this  quarry  every 
block  was  shaped  and  polished  before  it  was  sent  to  be 
inserted  in  its  place  in  the  Temple  wall,  which  therefore, 
as  Heber  beautifully  says,  sprang  up  like  some  tall  palm 
in  majestic  silence.  In  Rome  this  marble  was  very  rare. 
The  doors  in  the  great  piers  which  support  the  dome 
of  St.  Peter's  are  each  flanked  by  a  pair  of  spirally-fluted 
columns  of  Tyrian  marble,  supposed  to  have  been 
brought  to  Rome  by  Titus  from  the  Temple  of  Jeru- 
salem. They  originally  decorated  the  confessional  of  the 
old  Basilica,  The  twenty-eight  steps  of  the  Scala  Santa 
at  the  Lateran,  said  by  ecclesiastical  tradition  to  have 
belonged  to  Pilate's  house  in  Jerusalem,  and  to  have 
been  the  identical  ones  which  our  Saviour  descended 
when    He    left    the   judgment -hall,   are    made    of  this 


326 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


marble  ;  so  that,  whatever  we  may  think  of  the  tradition 
itself,  there  is  a  feature  of  verisimilitude  in  the  material. 

The  chief  supply  of  pure  white  marble  in  Rome  was 
derived  from  the  quarries  in  the  mountains  at  Luna,  an  old 
Etruscan  town  near  the  Bay  of  Spezia,  which  fell  to  decay 
under  the  later  Roman  emperors.      This  ancient  M ar- 
mor Liinense  is  called  by  the  Italians  Marmo  di  Carrara, 
because  it  is  identical  with  the  famous  modern  Carrara 
marble,  and  belongs  to  the  same  range  of  strata  ;  the 
ruins  of  the  ancient  Luna  being  only  a  few  miles  from 
the  flourishing  town  of  Carrara,  the  metropolis  of  the 
marble  trade.      From  Parian  and  Pentelic  marble.  Lunar 
marble,  as  already  mentioned,  can  be  easily  distinguished 
by  the  less  brilliant  sparkle  of  its  crystal  facets,  as  shown 
by  a   fresh  surface,    and   also   by  its  more  soapy-white 
colour.      It  is    simply   an    ordinary   Jurassic   limestone 
altered  by  subsequent  metamorphic  action.    The  mount- 
ains which  contain  the  quarries  are  highly  picturesque, 
rising  with  serried  outline  to  a   height    of  upwards  of 
five  thousand  feet,  their  flanks  scarred  by  deep  gorges 
and  torrent-beds,   and    their  lower   slopes  clothed  with 
olive  groves,  vineyards,  and  forest  trees.     Lunar  marble 
was  first  brought  to  Rome  in  the  time  of  Julius  Caesar; 
and  Mamurra,  so  bitterly  reviled  by  Catullus,  the  com- 
mander of  the  artificers  in  Caesar's  army  in  Gaul,  lined 
with  great  slabs  of  this  marble  the  outside  and  inside  of 
his   house    on    the    Coelian    Hill — the    first    recorded 
instance  of  veneering  or  incrusting  walls  with    marble. 
The  discovery  of  this  method  of  cutting  marble  into  thin 
slices,  and  decorating    structures  of   ordinary  materials 
with  them,  was  stigmatised  by  Pliny  as  an  unreasonable 
mode  of  extending  luxury.      The  use  of  Lunar  marble, 
on  account  of  its  easy  accessibility,  speedily  extended  to 
every  kind  of  building,  public  and    private.      So    vast 
were  the  quantities  sent  to  Rome,  that  Ovid  expressed 
his  fear  lest  the  mountains  themselves  should  disappear 
through  the  digging  out  of  this  marble  ;  and  Pliny  anti- 
cipated that  dreadful  consequences  would  be  produced 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


327 


by  the  removal  in  this  way  of  the  great  barriers  erected 
by  Nature. 

Many  fine  specimens  still  survive  the  ravages  of  ages, 
among  which  may  be  mentioned  the  eleven  massive 
Corinthian  columns,  upwards  of  forty-two  feet  high,  and 
four  and  a  half  feet  in  diameter,  which  form  the  peristyle 
of  the  Temple  of  Neptune  in  the  Piazza  di  Pietra,  well 
known  as  the  old  Custom-house.  These  pillars  suffered 
severely  from  the  action  of  fire,  and  are  much  worn  and 
defaced,  but  there  is  a  grandeur  about  them  still  which 
deeply  impresses  the  spectator ;  and  the  blocks  of  marble 
which  form  the  inner  part  of  the  architrave  and  entabla- 
ture, as  seen  from  the  inner  side  of  the  court,  are  so 
stupendous  that  the  ruins  *' overhang  fike  a  beetling 
rock  of  marble  on  a  mountain  peak."'  Grander  still  is 
the  majestic  column  of  Lunar  marble  dedicated  to 
Marcus  Aurelius,  in  the  Piazza  Colonna,  which  rears 
aloft  its  shaft  one  hundred  and  twenty-two  feet  in  the 
air,  wreathed  around  with  spiral  bands  of  historic  reliefs, 
illustrating  the  Roman  conquests  over  the  German  tribes 
north  of  the  Danube.  Very  splendid  specimens  of  the 
same  marble  may  be  seen  in  the  three  fluted  Corinthian 
columns  and  a  pilaster  belonging  to  the  Temple  of  Mars 
Ultor  erected  by  Augustus  in  his  Forum  after  the  battle 
of  Actium,  which  are  the  largest  columns  of  any  kind  of 
marble  in  Rome,  being  eighteen  feet  in  circumference, 
and  upwards  of  fifty-four  feet  high.  The  two  well-known 
pillars  of  the  portico  of  the  Temple  of  Minerva,  called 
Le  Colonnacce,  belonging  to  the  adjoining  Forum  of 
Nerva,  are  also  composed  of  the  same  material ;  as  also 
the  three  deeply-fluted  Corinthian  columns  that  remain 
of  the  Temple  of  Vespasian  in  the  Roman  Forum,  which 
still  retain  some  traces  of  the  purple  colour  with  which 
they  appear  to  have  been  painted.  By  far  the  largest 
single  masses  of  Lunar  marble  are  the  two  portions  of  a 
gigantic  frieze  and  entablature,  highly  ornamented  with 
sculpture,  one  measuring  one  thousand  four  hundred 
and  ninety  cubic  feet,  and  weighing  upwards  of  one 


1 


328 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


hundred  tons,  lying  in  the  Colonna  gardens  on  the  slope 
of  the  Quirinal.  These  relics  are  supposed  to  have 
belonged  to  the  splendid  Temple  of  the  Sun,  which 
Aurelian  erected  after  the  conquest  of  Palmyra,  and  in 
which  he  deposited  the  rich  spoils  of  that  city.  They 
are  associated  therefore  with  romantic  memories  of  the 
famous  Queen  Zenobia,  who  spent  her  last  days  near 
Tivoli,  after  having  been  led  captive  in  fetters  of  gold  to 
grace  the  triumphal  procession  of  her  conqueror. 

For  statuary  purposes  Lunar  marble  was  extensively 
used  in  ancient  Rome.      It  formed  the  material  out  of 
which  the  sculptor  produced  some  of  the  noblest  creations 
of  his  genius.      Of  these  the  Apollo  Belvedere  in  the 
Vatican  collection  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable.     The 
evidence  of  its  own  material,  as  already  mentioned,  has 
dispelled  the  old  idea  that  it  is  one  of  the  masterpieces 
of  the  Greek  school;    and  Canova's  conjecture,  based 
upon  some  peculiarities  of  its  drapery,  is  in  all  likelihood 
true,  viz.  that  it  was  a  copy  of  a  bronze  original,  made, 
probably  at  the  order  of  Nero,  for  one  of  the  baths  of  the 
imperial  villa  at  Antium,  in  whose  ruins  it  was  found  in 
the  fifteenth  century.     From  the  time  of  the  Romans, 
the  white  marble  of  the  Montes  Lunenses  has  been  used 
for  decorative  purposes  in  many  of  the  churches  and 
public  buildings  of  Italy.     It  formed  the  material  out  of 
which  Michael  Angelo,  Canova,  and  Thorwaldsen  chiselled 
their  immortal  works.      Its  quality  and  composition,  how- 
ever, vary  very  considerably,  and  small  crystals  of  per- 
fectly limpid  quartz,  called  Carrara  diamonds,  and  iron 
pyrites,   occasionally  occur,   to   the   annoyance    of  the 
sculptor.     It  becomes  soon  discoloured  when  exposed 
even  to  the  pure  air  of  Italy,  but  it  is  capable  of  resisting 
decay  for  very  long  periods.     The  opinion  current  in 
Paris,  that  the  marbles  of  Carrara  are  unable  to  with- 
stand the  effects  of  the  climate  of  that  city,  is  due  to  the 
frequent  use  of  inferior  qualities,  which  are  known  to 
artists  as  Saloni  and  Ravaccioni,  and  whose  particles  have 
but  a  feeble  cohesion,  and  consequently  slight  durability. 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


329 


All  the  white  marbles  which  I  have  thus  described 
were  used  in  Rome  principally  for  external  architecture ; 
and  beautiful  as  a  city  largely  built  of  them  may  have 
looked,  it  must  have  had,  nevertheless,  a  garishness  and 
artificiality  which  would  offend  the  artistic  eye.     When 
newly  constructed,  the  Roman  temples  in  the  time  of  the 
emperors  must  have  been  oppressive,  reflecting  the  hot 
sunshine  from  their  snowy  cellae  and  pillared  porticoes 
with  an  insufferable  glare.     Marble— unlike  sandstones, 
clay-slates,  and  basalts,  which  are  kindred  to  the  earth 
and  the  elements,  and  find  themselves  at  home  in  any 
situation,  all  things  making  friends  with  them,  mosses, 
lichens,  ivies — is  a  dead,  cold  material,  and  does  not 
harmonise   with   surrounding  circumstances.     Like  the 
snow,  which  hides  the  familiar  brown  soil  from  us,  with 
its   unearthly  and   uncongenial  whiteness,  its  perpetual 
snow  chills  and  repels  human  sympathies.     Nature,  for 
a  similar  reason,  introduces  white  flowers  very  sparingly 
into  the  landscape  ;  and  their  dazzling  whiteness  is  toned 
down  by  the  greenery  around  them,  and  the  balancing 
of  coloured  objects  near  at  hand,  so  that  they  do  not  in 
reality  attract   more  notice  than  other   flowers.      The 
ancient  Greeks  themselves,  keenly  sensitive  as  they  were 
to  all  external   influences,  had  a  fine   instinct   for  this 
want  of  harmony  between  white  marble  and  the  tones 
of  nature  and  the  feelings  of  man ;  and   therefore,  in 
many    instances,    they    coloured    not    only   the    marble 
buildings  exposed  to  view  outside,  but  even  the  marble 
statues   carefully  secluded  in  the  niches  within.      The 
Parthenon  was  thus  tinted  with  vermilion,  blue,  and  gold, 
which  seems  to  us,  who  now  see  only  the  golden  hue 
with  which  the  suns  of  ages  have  dyed  its  pure  Pentelic 
marble,  a  barbarous  superfluity,  but  which,  to  the  people  of 
the  time,  was  necessary  on  account  of  the  dazzling  bright- 
ness of  its  material,  concealing  the  exquisite  beauty  of 
the  workmanship,  and  the  finished  grace  of  its  propor- 
tions.    Colour  was  used  with  perfect  taste  to  relieve  the 
sculptured  details  of  the  exterior,  to  articulate  and  orna- 


330 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


ment  mouldings,  and  to  harmonise  the  pure  white  temple 
with  the  dark  blue  sky  of  Greece  and  the  rich  warm 
tones  of  her  landscape.  The  magnificent  sarcophagi  of 
white  marble  recently  discovered  at  Sidon,  belonging  to 
the  best  type  of  Greek  art,  are  most  effectively  adorned 
with  different  tints  and  gradations  of  red  and  purple, 
gold  being  sparingly  applied.  We  see  many  traces  of 
bright  colouring  on  the  columns  and  other  parts  of  the 
buildings  in  the  Roman  Forum.  The  bas-reliefs  on  the 
Lumachella  marble  of  Trajan's  Column  were  originally 
picked  out  with  profuse  gilding  and  vivid  colours ;  the 
egg  and  arrow  moulding  of  the  capital  being  tinted 
green,  red  and  yellow,  the  abacus  blue  and  red,  the 
spirals  yellow,  the  prominent  figures  gilt  against  back- 
grounds of  different  hues,  and  the  water  of  the  various 
rivers  blue.  Statues  of  the  deities  in  Rome  were  nearly 
all  coloured ;  and  they  received  a  fresh  coat  of  vermilion 
— which,  although  it  was  the  hue  of  divinity,  was  ex- 
tremely fugacious — on  anniversary  occasions  (5r  in  times 
of  great  national  rejoicing. 

All  this  pleads  powerfully  in  behalf  of  Gibson's  colour- 
creed,  which  has  had  so  much  prejudice  to  overcome. 
The  beauty  and  expression  of  ancient  sculpture,  whether 
for  outside  or  inside  decoration,  were  greatly  heightened 
by  this  tinting.  In  cases  where  it  was  not  employed. 
Nature  herself  became  the  artist,  and  has  burnt  into  the 
marble  statue  or  the  marble  pillar  the  warm  hue  of  life ; 
and  the  rusty,  withered  look  of  the  ruins,  over  which 
ages  of  change  have  passed,  touches  us  more  than  the 
pure  white  marble  structure  could  have  done  in  the 
pride  of  its  splendour,  and  appeals  to  the  tenderest  sym- 
pathies of  beings  who  see  in  themselves,  and  in  all  around 
them,  the  tokens  of  death  and  decay.  The  graceful 
Corinthian  pillars  of  the  Temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux  in 
the  Forum,  the  three  surviving  witnesses  of  its  former 
grandeur,  are  all  the  more  suggestive  to  us  by  reason  of 
the  russet  hues  with  which  time  has  stained  the  snowy 
purity  of  their  Parian  marble ;  and  it  is  difficult  to  say. 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


331 


as  some  one  has  shrewdly  remarked,  how  much  of  the 
touching  effect  which  the  drooping  figure  of  the  Dying 
Gladiator  of  the  Capitol  produces  upon  us  may  be 
attributed  to  its  discoloration,  and  to  the  absence  of  the 
dainty  spotlessness  of  the  original  Greek  marble.  That 
grime  of  ages  "  lends  a  sort  of  warmth,  and  suggests 
flesh  and  blood,"  so  that  the  suffering  is  not  a  cold  and 
frosty  incrustation,  wuth  which  we  have  nothing  to  do, 
but  a  real  tragedy  going  on  before  our  eyes,  by  which 
our  sympathies  are  most  deeply  moved.  In  a  dry,  hot 
climate,  like  that  of  Rome,  there  are  no  tender  tones  of 
vegetable  colouring,  no  moss  or  lichen  touches  of  gold 
or  gray  or  green  to  relieve  the  bare  cold  surface,  and 
the  rigid  formal  outlines  of  the  marble ;  but  out  of  the 
sky  itself  the  marble  gathers  the  soft  shadows  and  the 
rich  brown  hues  that  reconcile  its  strange,  unnatural 
whiteness  with  the  homely  ways  of  the  familiar  earth. 
That  wonderful  violet  sky  of  Rome  would  glorify  the 
meanest  object.  The  common  red  brick  glows  in  its 
translucent  atmosphere  like  a  ruby ;  and  the  russet  de- 
faced column,  as  it  comes  out  against  its  vivid  light, 
becomes  luminous  like  a  pillar  of  gold.  Brick  and 
marble  are  of  equal  aesthetic  value  in  this  magic  city,  in 
which  the  uncomely  parts  and  materials  have  a  more 
abundant  comeliness  by  reason  of  the  medium  through 
which  they  are  seen.  Over  all  things  lingers  perma- 
nently the  transfiguring  glow  that  comes  to  northern 
lands  only  in  the  afternoon.  In  that  land  it  is  always 
afternoon ;  the  ruins  bathe  as  it  were  in  a  perpetual  sun- 
set. The  air  is  constantly  flooded  with  a  radiance  which 
seems  to  transfuse  itself  through  every  part  of  the  city, 
making  all  its  ruinous  and  hoary  age  bright  and  living, 
forming  pictures  and  harmonies  indescribable  of  the 
humblest  objects. 

The  white  marbles  hitherto  described  were  principally 
for  exterior  use.  But  as  Roman  wealth  and  luxury  in- 
creased coloured  marbles  w^ere  employed  for  internal 
decoration ;  and  the  effects  which  the  Greeks  obtained 


332 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


by  the  application  of  pigments,  the  Romans   obtained 
by  the  rich  hues  of  precious  marbles   incrusting  their 
buildings,  and   durable   as  these   buildings   themselves. 
At  first  these  rare  materials  were  used  with  a  degree  of 
moderation,  chiefly  in  the  form  of  mosaics  of  small  discs 
or  cubes  for  the  pavements  of  halls  and  courts.     But  at 
length   massive   pillars  were   constructed  of  them,  and 
the  vast  inside  brick   surfaces   of  imperial   baths   and 
palaces  were  crusted   over  and   concealed  by  slabs  of 
rare  and  splendid  marbles,  the  lines  of  which  had  no  ne- 
cessary connection  with  the  mass   behind   or  beneath. 
Carthage  from  the  spoils  of  its  temples  supplied  Rome 
with  niany  of  its  rarest  columns ;  and  it  is  probable  that 
not  a  few  of  these  survive  in  the  Christian  basilicas  that 
occupy  the  sites  and  were  built  out  of  the  materials  of 
the  old  Pagan  structures.    With  the  decay  of  the  Roman 
Empire  the  use  of  coloured  marbles  in  art  increased,  so 
that  even  busts  and  statues  had  their  faces  and  necks 
cut  in  white  and  the  drapery  in  coloured  marble.     It 
attained  its  fullest  development  in  the  Byzantine  style, 
ot  which,  as  it  appeals  to  the  senses  more  by  colour 
than  by  form,  it  is  a  predominant  characteristic,  neces- 
sary to  its  vitality  and  expression.     The  early  Christian 
builders  contemplated  this  mode  of  decoration  for  their 
interiors  only.     Very  rarely  had  they  the  means  to  apply 
it  to  the   outside   surface,  as  in  St.  Mark's  in  Venice, 
which  is  the  great  type  of  the  Byzantine  church,  coloured 
within  and  without  with  the  rich  hues  of  marbles  and 
mosaics.     Our  great  Gothic  cathedrals,  as  an  eminent 
architect  has  said,  were  the  creation  of  one  thought,  and 
hence   they  were  complete  when   the  workmen  of  the 
architects  left  them,  and  their  whole  effect  is  dominated 
by  one  idea  or  one  set  of  ideas ;  but  the  early  Roman 
churches  were  the  results  of  a  general  co-operation  of 
associated  art,  and  the  large  and  plain  surfaces  of  the 
interiors  were  regarded  by  the  sculptor  as  a  framework 
for  the   exhibition   of  his   decorative   art.     Colour  was 
lavished  in  veneers  of  rare  marbles,  and  costly  mosaics 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


333 


and  frescoes  covering  the  walls.  There  was  thus  "  less 
unity  of  purely  architectural  design,  but  a  greater  amount 
of  general  artistic  wealth." 

Intermediate  between  the  white    marbles    used  for 
external  architecture  and  the  coloured  marbles  used  for 
internal  decoration,  and  forming  the  link  between  them, 
is  the  variety  called  by  the  Italians  cipoUino,  or  onion- 
stone.     Its  classical  name  is  Martnor  Carystuun,  from 
Carystos,  a  town  of  Euboea,  mentioned  by  Homer,  situ- 
ated on  the  south  coast  of  the  island  at  the  foot  of 
Mount  Oche.     This  town  was  chiefly  celebrated  for  its 
marble,  which  was  in  great  request  at  Rome,  and  also 
for  its  large   quantities  of  valuable  asbestos,  which  re- 
ceived  the   name   of  Carystian   stone,  and   was  manu- 
factured by  the  Romans  into   incombustible   cloth  for 
the  preservation  of  the  ashes  of  the  dead  in  the  process 
of  cremation.     The  asbestos  occurs  in  the  same  quarries 
with  this  marble,  just  as  this  mineral  is  usually  associ- 
ated with  talc  schist,  in  which   chlorite   and  mica  are 
often  present.     Strabo  places  the  quarries  of  cipollino 
at  Marmorium,  a  place  upon  the  coast  near  Carystos ; 
but  Mr.  Hawkins  mentions  in  Walpole's  Travels  that  he 
found  the  ancient  works  upon  Blount  Oche  at  a  distance 
of  three  miles  from  the  sea,  the  place  being  indicated 
by  some  old  half-worked  columns,  lying  apparently  on 
the  spot  where  they  had  been  quarried.     This  marble 
is  very  peculiar,  and  is  at  once  recognised  by  its  gray- 
green  ground  colour  and  the  streaks  of  darker  green 
running  through  the  calcareous  substance  like  the  coats 
of  an  onion,  hence  its  name.     These  streaks  belong  to 
a    different   mineral    formation.      They    are    micaceous 
strata  ;  and  thus  the  true  cipollino  is  a  mixture  of  talcose 
schist  with  white  saccharoidal  marble,  and  may  be  said 
to  form  a  transition  link  between  marble  and  common 
stone.      It   belongs  to  the   Dolomitic  group   of  rocks, 
which  forms  so  large  a  part  of  the  romantic  scenery  of 
South -Eastern   Europe,  and   yields  all   over  the  world 
some  of  the  best  and  most  ornamental  building- stones. 


334 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


In  this  group  calc-spar  or  dolomite  wholly  replaces  the 
quartz  and  films  of  argillaceous  matter,  of  which,  especi- 
ally in  Scotland,  micaceous  schist  is  usually  composed. 
There  are  many  varieties  of  cipollino,  the  most  common 
being  the  typical  marble,  a  gray-green  stone,  sometimes 
more  or  less  white,  with  veins  of  a  darker  green,  forming 
waves  rippling  over  it  like  those  of  the  sea.  It  occurs 
so  often  among  the  ruins  that  it  must  have  been  perhaps 
more  frequently  used  in  Rome  than  any  other  marble. 
It  was  also  one  of  the  first  introduced,  for  Mamurra 
lined  the  walls  of  his  house  on  the  Ccelian  with  it,  as 
well  as  with  Lunar  marble,  in  the  time  of  Julius  Caesar ; 
but  Statins  mentions  that  it  was  not  very  highly  esteemed, 
especially  in  later  times,  when  more  valuable  marbles 

came  into  use. 

One  remarkably  fine  variety  called  Cipollino  marino 
is  distinguished  by  its  minute  curling  veins  of  light  green 
on  a  ground  of  clear  white.     Four  very  large  columns 
in  the  Braccio  Nuova  of  the  Vatican,  which  may  have 
belonged  originally,  like  the  two  large  columns  oi  giallo 
anticoxn  the  same  apartment,  to  some  sumptuous  tomb 
on  the  Appian  Way,  are  formed  of  this  variety,  and  are 
unique  among  all  the  other  pillars  of  cipollino  marble 
to  be  seen  in  Rome  for  the  brightness  of  their  colour 
and  the  exquisite    beauty  of  their  venation.     Nothing 
can  be  more  striking  and  beautiful  than  the  rich  wave- 
like ripples  of  green  on  the  cipollino  marbles  that  encase 
the  Baptistery  of  St.  Mark's  in  Venice,  as  if  the  breakers 
on  the  Lido  shore  had  been  frost-bound  before  they  fell, 
and  the  sea-nymphs  had  sculptured  them  into  the  walls 
of  this  "ecclesiastical  sea-cave."     Indeed  all  the  outside 
and  inside  walls  of  the  glorious  old  church  are  cased 
with  this  marble — in  the  interior  up  to  the  height  of  the 
capitals  of  the  columns  ;  while  above  that,  every  part  of 
the  vaults  and  domes  is  incrusted  with  a  truly  Byzantine 
profusion  of  gold  mosaics — fit  image,  as  Ruskin  beauti- 
fully says,  of  the  sea  on  which,  like  a  halcyon's  nest, 
Venice  rests,  and  of  the  glowing  golden  sky  that  shines 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


335 


above  it.  Line  after  line  of  pleasant  undulation  ripples 
on  the  smooth  polished  marble  as  the  sea  ebbs  and 
flows  through  the  narrow  streets  of  the  city.  In  the 
churches  and  palaces  of  Rome  specimens  of  all  the 
varieties  of  cipollino  may  be  found,  taken  from  the  old 
ruins,  for  the  marble  is  not  now  worked  in  the  ancient 
quarries.  The  largest  masses  of  the  common  kind  in 
Rome  are  the  eight  grand  old  Corinthian  columns  which 
form  the  portico  of  the  Temple  of  Antoninus  Pius  and 
Faustina  in  the  Forum.  The  height  of  each  shaft,  which 
is  composed  of  a  single  block,  is  forty-six  feet,  and  the 
circumference  fifteen  feet.  The  pillars  look  very  rusty 
and  weather-worn,  and  are  much  battered  with  the  ill- 
usage  which  they  have  received. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  and  highly-prized  marbles 
of  ancient  Rome  was  the  species  which  is  familiar  to 
every  visitor  under  the  name  of  Giallo  atitico.  It  must 
have  existed  in  immense  quantities  in  the  time  of  the 
emperors,  for  fragments  of  it  are  found  almost  every- 
where, and  it  is  the  variety  that  is  most  frequently  picked 
up  and  converted  into  ornamental  articles.  It  is  easily 
recognised  by  its  deep  brownish -yellow  colour,  resembling 
somewhat  the  yellow  marbles  of  Siena  and  Verona, 
though  invariably  richer  and  brighter.  All  the  varieties 
are  traversed  more  or  less  by  veins  and  blotches  of  a 
darker  yellow  or  brownish  hue,  which  give  them  a 
charming  variety.  The  texture  is  remarkably  fine  and 
close-grained.  In  this  respect  giallo  a?itico  can  be 
distinguished  from  every  other  marble  by  the  touch. 
When  polished  it  is  exquisitely  smooth  and  soft,  looking 
like  ivory  that  has  become  yellow  with  age.  No  fitter 
material  could  be  employed  for  the  internal  pavements 
or  pillars  of  old  temples,  presenting  a  venerable  appear- 
ance, as  if  the  suns  of  many  centuries  had  stained  it  with 
their  own  golden  hue.  From  the  fact  that  it  was  called 
by  the  Romans  Marmor  Numidicum^  we  are  led  to  infer 
that  this  marble  was  quarried  in  Numidia,  and  was 
brought  into  Rome  when  the  region  was  made  a  Roman 


336 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


province  by  Julius  Caesar.     It  was  probably  known  to 
the  Romans  in  the  time  of  Jugurtha ;  but  the  age  of 
luxury  had  not  then  begun,  and  Marius  and  Sulla  were 
more  intent  upon  the  glories  of  war  than  upon  the  arts 
of  peace.     The  quarries  on  the  slopes  of  the  Atlas, 
worked  for  three  hundred  years  to  supply  the  enormous 
demand  made  by  the  luxury  of  the  masters  of  the  world, 
were  at  last  supposed  to  be  exhausted;  and  the  idea 
has  long  prevailed  that  the  marble  could  only  be  found 
among  the   ruins  of  the   Imperial   City.     But   four  or 
five  years  ago,  the  sources   from  which  the   Romans 
obtained  some  of  their  most  precious  varieties  of  this 
material  have  been  rediscovered  in  the  range  of  mount- 
ains called  Djebel  Orousse,  north-east  of  Oran  in  Algeria. 
All  over  an  extensive  rocky  plateau  in  this  place  numer- 
ous shallow  depressions  plainly  indicate  the  existence 
of  very  ancient  quarries.     A  large  company  has  been 
formed  to  work  and  export  the  marble,  which  may  now 
be  had  in  illimitable  quantity.     The  largest  specimens 
of  dallo  antico  existing  in  Rome  are  the  eight  fluted 
Corinthian  pillars,  thirty  feet  high  and  eleven  feet  in 
circumference,  with  capitals  and  bases  of  white  marble, 
which  stand  in  pairs  within  the  niches  of  the  Pantheon. 
In  consequence  of  the  fires  of  former  generations  the 
marble  has  here  and  there  a  tinge  of  red  on  the  surface. 
In  the  Church  of  St.  John  Lateran  there  is  a  splendid 
pair  of  fluted  columns  oi  giallo  antico,  which  support  the 
entablature  over  a  portal  at  the  northern  extremity  of 
the  transept.     They  are  thirty  feet  in  height  and  nine 
feet  in  circumference,  and  were  found  in  Trajan  s  Forum. 
In   the    Arch  of  Constantine    are    several    magnificent 
nallo  antico  columns  and  pilasters,  which  are  supposed 
to   have    belonged   to   the    triumphal    arch    of   Irajan 
They  are  so  damaged  in  appearance,  and  so  discoloured 
by  the  weather,  that  it  is  not  easy,  without  close  inspec- 
tion   to  tell  the  material  of  which  they  are  composed. 
For'pavements  and  the  sheathing  of  interior  walls  giallo 
antico  was  used  more  frequently  than  almost  any  other 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


337 


kind  of  marble ;  hence  it  is  mostly  found  in  fragments 
of  thin  slabs,  with  the  old  polish  still  glistening  upon 

them. 

It  is  difficult  to  describe,  so  as  to  identify  it,  the 
species  of  marble  known  as  Africano.  It  has  a  great 
variety  of  tints,  ranging  from  the  clearest  white  to  the 
deepest  black,  through  yellow  and  purple.  Its  texture 
is  very  compact  and  hard,  frequently  containing  veins 
of  quartz,  which  render  it  difficult  to  work.  Its  ancient 
name  is  Marmor  Chiim,  for  it  was  brought  to  Rome 
from  a  quarry  on  Mount  Elias,  the  highest  summit  in 
the  island  of  Chios— the  modern  Scio — which  contested 
the  honour  of  being  the  birthplace  of  Homer.  It  re- 
ceived its  modern  name  of  Africano,  not  from  any  con- 
nection with  Africa,  but  from  its  dark  colour.  It  enters 
pretty  frequently  into  the  decoration  of  the  Roman 
churches,  though  it  is  rare  to  see  it  in  large  masses.  It 
seems  to  have  been  much  in  fashion  for  pavements,  of 
which  many  fragments  may  be  seen  among  the  ruins  of 
Trajan's  Forum.  The  side  wall  of  the  second  chapel 
in  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  della  Pace  in  the  Piazza 
Navona  is  sheathed  with  large  slabs  of  remarkably  fine 
Africano,  "with  edges  bevelled  like  a  rusticated  basement." 
In  the  Belvedere  Cortile  in  the  Vatican  is  a  portion  of 
an  ancient  column  of  this  marble,  which  is  the  most 
beautiful  specimen  in  Rome;  and  the  principal  portal 
of  the  portico  of  St.  Peter's  is  flanked  by  a  pair  of  fluted 
Roman  Ionic  columns  of  Africano,  which  are  the  largest 
in  the  city. 

Closely  allied  to  this  marble  is  an  ancient  species 
which  puzzles  most  visitors  by  its  Protean  appearance. 
Its  tints  are  always  neutral,  but  they  vary  in  depth  from 
the  lightest  to  the  darkest  shade,  and  are  never  mixed 
but  in  juxtaposition.  Dirty  yellows,  cloudy  reds,  dim 
blues  and  purples,  occur  in  the  ground  or  in  the  round 
or  waved  blotches  or  crooked  veins.  It  has  a  fine 
grain  and  a  dull  fracture.  This  variety  of  Africano  is 
known  by  the  familiar  name  of  Porta  Santa,  from  the 

z 


338 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


circumstance  that  the  jambs  and  Hntel  of  the  first  Porta 
Santa— a  Holy  Door  annexed  by  Boniface  VIII.  to  St. 
Peter's   in   the   year    1300— were    constructed   of  this 
marble.     The  Porta  Santa,  it  may  be  mentioned,  was 
instituted  in   connection  with  a  centenary  jubilee,  but 
afterwards   the  period   of  formally  opening   it  was   re- 
duced to  fifty  years,  and  now  it  is  shortened  to  twenty- 
five     On  the  occasion  of  the  jubilee,  on  Christmas  Eve, 
the    Pope  knocks  three  times  with   a   silver   hammer 
against  the  masonry  with  which  it  is  filled  up,  which  is 
then  demolished,  and  the  Holy  Uoor  remains  open  for 
a  whole  twelvemonth,  and  on  the  Christmas  Eve  of  the 
succeeding  year  is  closed  up  in   the  same   manner  as 
before.     A  similar  solemnity  is  performed  by  proxy  at 
the   Lateran,  the   Liberian,  and  the  Pauline   Basilicas. 
In  all  these  great  churches,  as  in  St.  Peter's,  the  jambs 
and  Lintel  of  the  Holy  Door  are  of  Porta  Santa  marble. 
This  beautiful  material  was  brought  from  the  mountains 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Jassus— a  celebrated  fishing 
town  of  Caria,  situated  on  a  small  island  close  to  the 
north  coast  of  the  Jassian  Bay.     From  this  circumstance 
it  was  called  by  the  ancient  Romans  Marmor  Jasscnse. 
Near  the  quarries  was  a  sanctuary  of  Hestia,  with  a 
statue  of  the  goddess,  which,  though  unprotected  in  the 
open  air,  was  believed  never  to  be  touched  by  ram. 
The  marble,  the  most  highly-prized  variety  of  which  was 
of  a  blood-red  and  livid  white   colour,   was   used   in 
Greece  chiefly  for  internal  decoration.      It  was   intro- 
duced in  large  quantity  into  Rome,  and  there  are  few 
churches  in  which  the  relics  of  it  that  existed  in  older 
buildings  have  not  been  adapted  for  ornamental  pur- 
poses.    Among  the  larger  and   finer  masses   of  Porta 
Santa  may  be  enumerated  two  columns  and  pilasters 
which  belong  to  the  monument  of  Clement  IX.,  in  the 
Church  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  and  which  are  remark- 
able for  their  exceedingly  fine  texture  and  the  unusual 
predominance   of  white   among   the   other    hues;    four 
splendid    Corinthian    pillars,   considered    the    finest    in 


X 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


339 


Rome,  in  the  nave  of  Sta.  Agnese ;  the  pair  of  half 
columns  which  support  the  pediment  of  the  altar  in  the 
Capella  della  Presentazione  in  St.  Peter's ;  and  the  basin 
of  the  handsome  fountain  in  front  of  the  Pillar  of 
Marcus  Aurelius  in  the  Piazza  Colonna,  constructed  by 
the  architect  Giacoma  della  Porta  out  of  an  enormous 
mass  of  Porta  Santa  found  lying  on  the  ancient  wharf. 

Frequent  specimens  of  a  beautiful  marble  known  as 
Fior  di  Persico,  from  the  resemblance  of  the  colour  of 
its  bright  purple  veins  on  a  white  ground  to  that  of  the 
blossom  of  the  peach,  may  be  found  in  the  Roman 
churches.  It  was  much  used  for  mouldings,  sheathings, 
and  pedestals,  and  also  for  floors.  In  the  Villa  of 
Hadrian  large  fragments  of  slabs  of  this  marble  may 
be  found,  which  lined  the  walls  and  floors  of  what  are 
called  the  Greek  and  Latin  Libraries.  The  Portuguese 
Church  in  Rome  has  several  columns  of  Fior  di  Persico 
supporting  the  pediments  of  altars  in  the  different 
chapels  ;  especially  four  pairs  of  fluted  ones  which  adorn 
the  two  altars  at  the  extremity  of  the  nave,  which  are 
among  the  largest  and  finest  in  Rome.  But  the  most 
splendid  specimens  of  all  are  a  pair  of  columns  in  the 
Palazzo  Rospigliosi.  The  dado,  eight  feet  in  height,  in 
the  gorgeous  Corsini  chapel  in  the  Church  of  St.  John 
Lateran,  is  formed  of  large  tablets  of  highly-polished 
Fior  di  Persico,  and  the  frieze  that  surrounds  the  whole 
chapel  is  composed  of  the  same  beautiful  material, 
whose  predominance  over  every  other  marble  is  the 
peculiarity  of  this  sanctuary.  The  ancient  name  of 
this  marble  was  Marmor  Molossium^  from  a  region  in 
Epirus — now  Albania — which  was  a  Roman  province  in 
the  time  of  Pompey.  It  is  associated  with  the  cele- 
brated campaigns  in  Italy  of  Pyrrhus,  king  of  Epirus, 
in  which  Greece  was  for  the  first  time  brought  into 
contact  with  Rome.  The  region  in  which  the  quarries 
existed  was  the  most  ancient  seat  of  Pelasgic  religion. 

The  infinite  hues  and  markings  of  the  coloured  marbles 
have  all  been  painted  by  Nature  with  one  material  only, 


340 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


variously  proportioned  and  applied — the  oxide  of  iron. 
The  varieties  of  marble  are  mainly  caused  by  the  different 
degrees  in  which  this  substance  has  pervaded  them. 
They  are  variable  mixtures  of  the  metamori)hous  carbon- 
ates of  protoxide  of  iron  and  lime.  And  it  is  an 
interesting  fact  that  there  is  a  distinct  relation  between 
deposits  of  magnetic  iron  ore  and  the  metamorphoses  oi 
limestones  into  marbles ;  so  that  this  substance  not  only 
gives  to  the  marbles  their  colouring,  but  also  their  texture. 
Even  the  whitest  saccharoidal  or  statuary  marble,  which 
it  has  not  coloured,  it  has  created  by  the  crystallisation 
of  the  Hmestone  associated  with  it.  And  the  marbles  of 
the  entire  province  of  the  Apuan  Alps  owe  their  exist- 
ence to  the  large  quantities  of  iron  ore  disseminated 
throughout  them,  which  have  exercised  a  great  influence 
on  the  molecular  modification  they  have  undergone. 
The  same  changes  have  been  produced  on  the  limestones 
of  Greece  and  Asia  Minor  by  veins  containing  iron  ore 
running  through  them. 

And  of  the  marbles  thus  produced,  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  is  that  which  is  known  in  Rome  by  the  name 
of  Pavonazzetto,   from  its  peacock-like  markings.     The 
ground  is  a  clear  white,  with  numerous  veins  of  a  dark 
red  or  violet  colour,  while  the  grain  is  fine,  with  large 
shining  scales.     It  resembles  alabaster  in  the  form  and 
character  of  its  veins,  and  in  its  transparent  quality.     It 
is  a  Phrygian  marble,  and  was  known  to  the  ancients 
under   the  name  of  Marmor  Docimenum.      The   poet 
Statins  notices  the  legend  that  it  was  stained  with  the 
blood  of  Atys.     It  was  a  favourite  marble  of  the  em- 
peror Hadrian,  who  employed  it  to  decorate  his  tomb. 
It  was  brought  to  Rome  when  Phyrgia  became  a  Roman 
province,  after  the  establishment  of  Christianity  in  Asia 
Minor.      At  first  the  quarry  yielded  only  small  pieces  of 
the  marble,  but  when  it  came  into  the  possession  of  the 
Romans   they  developed   its   resources   to   the   utmost; 
numerous  large  monolithic  columns  being  wrought  on 
the  spot,  and  conveyed  at  great  expense  and  labour  to  the 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


341 


coast.  Colonel  Leake  supposes  that  the  extensive  quar- 
ries on  the  road  from  Khoorukun  and  Bulwudun  are 
those  of  the  ancient  Docimenum.  Hamilton,  in  his 
Researches,  says  that  he  saw  numerous  blocks  of  marble 
and  columns  in  a  rough  state,  and  others  beautifully 
worked,  lying  in  this  locality.  In  an  open  space  beside  a 
mosque  lay  neglected  a  beautifully-finished  marble  bath, 
once  intended,  perhaps,  for  a  Roman  villa ;  and  in  the 
wall  of  the  mosque,  and  of  the  cemetery  beside  it,  were 
numerous  friezes  and  cornices,  whose  elaborately-finished 
sculptures  of  the  Ionic  and  Corinthian  orders  proved  that 
they  were  never  designed  for  any  building  on  the  spot, 
but  were  in  all  probability  worked  near  the  quarries  for 
the  purpose  of  easier  transportation,  as  is  done  in  the 
quarries  of  Carrara  at  the  present  day.  Pavonazzetto  is 
thus  associated  in  an  interesting  manner  with  the  Phrygian 
cities  of  Laodicea  and  Colosse.  When  St.  Paul  was 
preaching  the  Gospel  through  this  part  of  Asia  Minor, 
the  architects  of  Rome  were  conveying  this  splendid 
marble  from  the  quarries  of  the  Cadmus,  to  adorn  the 
palatial  buildings  of  the  Imperial  City.  No  marble  was 
so  highly  esteemed  as  this,  and  no  other  species  is  so 
frequently  referred  to  by  the  Latin  poets. 

The  high  altar  of  the  subterranean  church,  under 
which  the  relics  of  St.  Ignatius  and  St.  Clement  are 
supposed  to  lie,  is  covered  by  a  canopy  supported  by 
elegant  columns  of  pavonazzetto  marble ;  while  the  high 
altar  of  the  upper  church  is  similarly  surmounted  by  a 
double  entablature  of  Hymettian  marble,  supported  by 
four  columns  of  pavonazzetto.  The  extra-mural  church 
of  St.  Paul's  had  several  splendid  pillars  of  Phrygian 
marble,  taken  by  the  emperor  Theodosius  from  the 
grandest  of  the  law  courts  of  the  Republic ;  but  these 
were  unfortunately  destroyed  during  the  burning  of  the  old 
basilica  about  sixty  years  ago.  We  see  in  the  flat  pilasters 
of  this  purple-veined  marble,  now  erect  against  the  tran- 
septs of  the  restored  church,  the  vestiges  of  the  magnifi- 
cent yEmilian  Basilica  in  the  Forum,  of  whose  celebrated 


342 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


columns  Pliny  spoke  in  the  highest  terms.     Specimens  of 
pavonazzetto  are  to  be  seen  in  almost  every  church  in 
Rome.      In  the  interesting  old  Church  of  Sta.  Agnese 
there  are  two  columns  of  this  marble,  the  flutings  of 
which  are  remarkable  for  their  cabled  divisions.     The 
gallery  above  is  supported  on  small  columns,  most  of 
which  are  of  pavonazzetto  spirally  fluted.     In  the  Church 
of  Santa  Maria  degli  Angeli  there  is  also  a  remarkably 
fine  specimen  ;  while  there  is  a  grand  pair  of  columns  m 
the  vestibule  of  St.  Peter's  between  the  transept  and  the 
sacristy.     Fourteen  fluted  columns  of  Phrygian  marble 
have  been  dug  up  from  the  site  of  the  Augustan  Palace 
on  the  Palatine;    while  the   one  hundred  and  twenty 
employed  by  the  emperor  Hadrian,   in  the  Temple  of 
Juno  and  Jupiter  erected  by  him,  have  been  distributed 
among  several  of  the  Roman  churches.     The  side  walls 
of  the  splendid    staircase    of  the   Bracchi   Palace   are 
sheathed  with  a  very  rare  and  beautiful  variety,  remark- 
able for  the  delicacy  of  its  veins  and  its  brilliant  polish. 
The  veneer  was  produced  by  slicing  down  two  ancient 
columns    discovered    near    the    Temple    of    Romulus 
Maxentius  in  the  Forum,  converted  into  the  Church  of 
SS.  Cosma  e  Damiano.     But  the  finest  of  all  the  pavo- 
nazzetto  columns  of  Rome  are  the  ten  large   ones  in 
the  Church  of  San  Lorenzo  outside  the  walls.     In  the 
volute  of  the  capital  of  one  of  them  a  frog  has  been 
carved,  which  identifies  it  as  having  formerly  belonged 
to  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  or  Juno,  within  the  area  of 
the  Portico  of  Octavia.     Pliny  tells  us  that  both  temples 
were  built  at  their  own  expense  by  two  wealthy  Lace- 
daemonian  artists,  named  Sauros  and   Batrakos ;    and, 
having  been  refused  the  only  recompense  they  asked — 
the  right  to  place  an  inscription  upon  the  buildings,-— 
they  introduced  into  the  capitals  of  the  pillars,  surreptiti- 
ously, the  symbols  of  their  respective  names,  a  lizard 

and  a  frog. 

The  most  precious  of  the  old  marbles  of  Rome  is 
the  Rosso  antico.      Its   classical    name  has  been  lost, 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


343 


unless   it   be   identical,  as   Corsi   conjectures,   with   the 
Marmor  Alabandicum,  described  by  Pliny  as  black  inclin- 
ing much  to  purple.     For  a  long  time  it  was  uncertain 
where  it  was  found,  but  recently  quarries  of  it  have  been 
discovered  near  the  sea  at  Skantari,  a  village   in  the 
district  of  Teftion,  which  show  traces  of  having  been 
worked  by  the  ancients.     From  these  quarries  the  marble 
can  only  be  extracted  in  slabs  and  in  small  fragments. 
This  is  the  case,  too,  with  all  the  red  marbles  of  Italy, 
which,  in  spite  of  their  compact  character,  scale  off  very 
readily,  and  are  friable,  vitreous,  and  full  of  cleavage 
planes,  in  addition  to  which  they  are  usually  only  found 
in  thin  beds,  which  prevents  their  being  used  for  other 
purposes  than  table-tops  and  flooring-slabs.     The  pre- 
dominance of  magnetic  iron  ore,  to  which  they  owe  their 
vivid  colour,  has  thus  seriously  affected  the  molecular 
arrangement  of  the  rocks.     It  is  probable  that  rosso  antico^ 
like  the  Italian  red  marbles,  belongs  to  one  or  other  of 
the  Liassic  formations,  which,  in  Italy  as  well  as  in  Greece 
and  Asia   Minor,  constitutes   a  well-marked  geological 
horizon  by  its  regular  stratification  and  its  characteristic 
ammonite    fossils.      The    quantity    found    among    the 
Roman  ruins  of  this  marble  is  very  large ;  many  of  the 
shops  in  Rome  carving  their  models  of  classical  build- 
ings in  this  material.     But  the  fragments  are  compara- 
tively  small.      When    used   in    architecture   they  have 
been    employed   to    ornament    subordinate  features    in 
some  of  the  grander  churches.     The  largest  specimens 
to  be  seen  in  Rome  are  the  double -branched  flight  of 
seven  very  broad  steps,  leading  from  the  nave  to   the 
high  altar  of  Santa  Prassede.     Napoleon  Bonaparte,  a 
few  months  before  his  fall,  had  ordered  these  slabs  of 
rosso  antico  to  be  sent  to  Paris  to  ornament  his  throne ; 
but  fortunately  the  order  came  too  late  to  be  executed. 
The  cornice  of  the  present  choir  is  also  formed  of  this 
very  rare   marble ;    while    large   fragments    of  the    old 
cornice  of  the  same  material,  which  ran  round  the  whole 
church,  are  preserved  in  the  Belvedere  Cortile  of  the 


344 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Vatican.  Tradition  asserts  that  the  pieces  which  have 
been  converted  to  these  sacred  uses  in  the  church  once 
belonged  to  the  house  of  Pudens,  the  father  of  its  titular 
saint,  in  which  St.  Peter  is  supposed  to  have  dwelt 
when  in  Rome.  The  entrance  to  the  chamber  of  the 
Rospigliosi  Palace,  which  contains  the  far-famed  "Aurora" 
of  Guido  Reni  on  the  ceiling,  is  flanked  by  a  pair  of 
Roman  Ionic  columns  of  rosso  antico,  fourteen  feet  high, 
which  are  the  largest  in  Rome,  although  the  quality  of 
the  marble  is  much  injured  by  its  lighter  colour,  and  by 
a  white  streak  which  runs  up  each  shaft  nearly  from  top 
to  bottom.  In  the  sixth  room  of  the  Casino  of  the  Villa 
Borghese  the  jambs  of  the  mantelpiece  are  composed  of 
rosso  mitico  in  the  form  of  caryatides  supporting  a  broad 
frieze  of  the  same  material  wrought  in  bas-relief. 

This  marble  seems  to  have  been  the  favourite  material 
in  which  to  execute  statues  of  the  Faun ;  for  every  one 
who  has  visited  the  Vatican  Sculpture  Gallery  and  the 
Museum  of  the  Capitol  will  remember  well  the  beautiful 
statues  of  this  mythic  being  in  rosso  antico,  which  are 
among  their  chief  treasures,  and  cnce  adorned  the  luxuri- 
ous Villa  of  Hadrian  at  Tivoli.  This  marble  is  admir- 
ably adapted  for  such  sculpture,  for  it  gives  to  the  ideal 
of  the  artist  the  w^arm  vividness  of  life.  And  it  seems 
a  fit  colour,  as  Nathaniel  Hawthorne  has  said,  in  which 
to  express  the  rich,  sensuous,  earthy  side  of  nature,  the 
happy  characteristics  of  all  wild  natural  things  which 
meet  and  mingle  in  the  human  form  and  in  the  human 
soul;  the  Adam,  the  red  man  formed  out  of  the  red 
clay,  in  which  the  life  of  the  animals  and  the  life  of  the 
gods  coalesce.  In  the  Gabinetto  of  the  Vatican,  along 
with  a  large  square  tazza  of  rosso  antico,  is  kept  a  most 
curious  arm-chair  of  this  marble,  called  sedia  forata, 
found  near  the  Church  of  St.  John  Lateran,  upon  which, 
in  the  middle  ages,  the  Popes  were  obliged  to  sit  at 
their  installation  in  the  presence  of  the  Cardinals. 
This  custom,  which  was  practised  as  late  as  the  corona- 
tion of  Julius  11.  in  1503,  arose  from  a  desire  to  secure 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


;45 


the  throne  of  St.  Peter  from  being  intruded  upon  by  a 
second  Pope  Joan — whether  there  ever  really  was  such 
a  personage,  or  whatever  gave  rise  to  the  curious  myth. 
The  chair  is  like  an  ordinary  library  chair,  with  solid 
back  and  sides,  sculptured  out  of  a  single  block,  and 
perforated  in  the  seat  with  a  circular  aperture.  Rosso 
antico  is  not  what  might  strictly  be  called  a  beautiful 
marble.  Its  colour  is  dusky  and  opaque,  resembling 
that  of  a  bullock's  liver,  marked  with  numerous  black 
reticulations,  so  minute  and  faint  as  to  be  hardly  visible. 
But  the  grain  is  extremely  fine,  admitting  of  the  highest 
polish. 

Of  black  marbles — in  the  formation  of  which  both 
the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms  have  taken  part,  their 
substance  being  composed  of  the  finely-ground  remains 
of  foraminifera,  corals,  and  shells,  and  their  colour  pro- 
duced by  the  carbonaceous  deposits  of  ancient  forests — 
few  kinds  seem  to  have  been  used  by  the  ancient  Romans. 
•The  7iero  antico  was  the  species  most  esteemed,  on 
account  of  its  compact  texture,  fine  grain,  and  deep 
black  colour,  marked  occasionally  with  minute  white 
short  straight  lines,  always  broken  and  interrupted.  It 
is  the  Marmor  Tcenarium  of  the  ancients,  quarried  in 
the  Taenarian  peninsula,  which  forms  the  most  southerly 
point  in  Europe,  now  called  Cape  Matapan.  The  cele- 
brated quarries  w^hich  Pliny  eloquently  describes,  but  for 
which  Colonel  Leake  inquired  in  vain,  were  under  the 
protection  of  Poseidon,  whose  temple  was  at  the  extrem- 
ity of  the  peninsula.  They  attracted,  on  account  of  the 
sanctuary  which  the  temple  afforded,  large  numbers  of 
criminals  who  fled  from  the  pursuit  of  justice,  and  who 
readily  found  work  in  them.  Very  fine  specimens  of 
this  marble  may  be  seen  in  a  pair  of  columns  in  the 
obscure  Church  of  Santa  Maria  Regini  Coeli,  near  the 
Convent  of  St.  Onofrio,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Tiber  ; 
in  a  pair  in  the  church  of  Ara  Coeli ;  and  also  in  a  pair 
in  the  third  room  of  the  Villa  Pamphili  Doria,  which 
are  extremely  fine,  and  are  probably  as  large  as  any  to 


Il 


346 


ROMAN  iMOSAICS 


CHAP. 


be  met  with.  In  consequence  of  the  quantity  used  in 
the  inscriptional  tablets  of  monuments,  for  which  this 
seems  to  be  the  favourite  material,  nero  antico  is  ex- 
tremely scarce  in  modern  Rome.  The  bigio  antico  \^  a 
grayish  marble,  composed  of  white  and  black,  sometimes 
in  distinct  stripes  or  waves,  and  sometimes  mingled 
confusedly  together.  It  was  the  Marvior  Batthiwn  of 
the  ancients,  and  two  of  the  large  columns  in  the  prin- 
cipal portal  of  the  Church  of  Santa  Croce  in  Jerusa- 
lemme  are  remarkably  fine  specimens  of  it,  probably 
taken  from  the  Villa  of  Heliogabalus,  in  whose  gardens, 
called  the  Horti  Variani,  the  church  was  built. 

Another  species  is  the  bianco  e  nero  antico,  the  Marmor 
Froconnesium  of  antiquity,  obtained  from  the  celebrated 
quarries  of  Proconnesos,  an  island  in  the  western  part 
of  the  Propontis.     Many  of  the  towns  of  Greece  were 
decorated  with  this  marble.     The  internal  part  of  the 
famous   sepulchre  erected   by  Artemisia,  the  widow  of 
Mausolus,   king  of  Caria,   to   her   husband,  and    after- 
whom  all  grand  tombs   ever  since  have   received  the 
name  of  mausoleum,  was  built  of  this  marble.     So  cele- 
brated were  the  quarries  of  Proconnesos  that  the  ancient 
name  of  the  island  was  changed  to  Marmora,  and  the 
whole  of  the  Propontis  is  now  called  the  Sea  of  Marmora. 
Although  so  highly  esteemed  in  Greece,  this  marble  does 
not  seem  to  have  been  extensively  used  in  Rome ;  the 
finest    relics    being    the    four    columns    supporting    the 
marble  canopy,  in  the  form  of  a  Gothic  temple,  which 
surmounts  the  high  altar  of  St.  Csecilia,  which  is  among 
the  most  ancient  of  all  the  churches  of  Rome.     They 
were  probably  derived  from  some  old   Roman   palace, 
and  are  remarkable  for  the  clearness  and  brilliancy  of 
the   white    blotches   on  a   black    ground.      There    are 
different  varieties  of  this   marble:    one  kind  in  which 
the  blotches  or  veins  are  pure  black  on  a  pure  white 
ground,  and  another  in  which  the  blotches  or  veins  are 
pure  white  on  a  black  ground.     In  these  varieties,  how- 
ever, the  black  and  the  white  are  more  confused  together. 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


347 


but  remain  notwithstanding  distinct  and  separate,  so  that 
if  the  veins  are  white  the  ground  is  sure  to  be  black,  and 
vice  versa.  The  ancient  Marmor  Rhodium,  or  the  gialio 
€  nero,  had  golden-coloured  veins  on  a  black  ground,  and, 
owing  to  its  compact  texture,  was  capable  of  receiving  a 
high  polish.  It  is  very  like  the  celebrated  marble  of 
Portovenere,  a  modern  Italian  species  obtained  from  the 
western  hills  of  the  Gulf  of  Spezia,  where  the  formation 
passes  into  that  of  the  ammonitiferous  limestones  of  the 
Lias  and  of  the  palaeozoic  rocks.  A  beautiful  highly- 
polished  specimen  of  Rhodian  marble  exists  in  the  mask 
in  front  of  the  tomb  of  Paul  III.  in  the  tribune  of  St. 
Peter's,  sculptured  by  Delia  Porta  in  1547,  long  pre- 
vious to  the  discovery  of  the  quarries  of  Portovenere. 
It  may  be  remarked  that  the  grain  of  the  latter  species 
is  such  that  it  will  not  keep  its  polish  without  extreme 
care;  a  circumstance  which  distinguishes  it  from  the 
Rhodian  marble,  whose  tenacity  in  this  respect  renders 
it  eminently  adapted  for  the  more  costly  class  of  decora- 
tive works. 

The  marbles  we  have  been  hitherto  considering  be- 
long to  the  older  calcareous  formations  of  Italy,  Greece, 
Asia  Minor,  and  Egypt,  and  go  down  to  the  upper 
triassic  and  muschel-kalk  limestones,  and  perhaps  even 
to  those  of  an  older  period.  But  there  is  a  class  of 
ancient  marbles  in  Rome  of  much  more  recent  geologi- 
cal origin — belonging  indeed  to  the  Miocene  epoch — 
which  are  called  Lumachella,  from  the  Italian  word 
signifying  snail,  on  account  of  the  presence  in  all  the 
species  of  fossil  shells.  They  vary  in  colour  from  the 
palest  straw  to  the  deepest  purple.  Some  of  them  are 
exceedingly  beautiful  and  valuable,  and  they  are  nearly 
all  more  or  less  rare,  being  found  chiefly  in  small  frag- 
ments of  ancient  pavements.  Their  substance  is  formed 
of  the  shells  of  the  common  oyster  in  bluish  gray  and 
black  particles  on  a  white  ground,  as  in  the  Lumachella 
d'  Egitto ;  of  the  cardium  or  cockle,  assuming  a  lighter 
or  deeper  shade  of  yellow,  as  in  the  Lumachella  d' Astra- 


348 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


cane ;  of  the  ammonite,  as  in  the  L.  Corno  d'  Ammone ; 
of  the  Anomia  ampulla  in  the  L.  occhio  di  Pavone,  so 
called  from  the  circular  form  of  the  fossils  whichever 
way  the  section  is  made ;  of  encrinites,  belemnites,  and 
starfish,  showing  white  or  red  on  a  violet  ground,  as  in 
the  L.  pavonazza ;  and  "  of  broken  shells,  hardly  dis- 
cernible, together  with  very  shining  and  saccharoid 
particles  of  carbonate  of  lime,"  as  in  the  Marmor  Schiston 
of  the  ancients — the  hrocatello  antico  of  the  Italians,  so 
named  from  its  various  shades  of  yellow  and  purple, 
resembling  silk  brocade.  The  most  important  specimens 
of  Lumachella  marbles  are  the  pair  of  very  fine  large 
columns  of  L.  rosea  on  the  ground-floor  of  the  Schiarra 
Palace,  the  balustrade  of  the  high  altar  of  St.  Andrea 
della  Valle,  two  columns  in  the  garden  of  the  Corsini 
Palace  of  L.  d'  Astracane,  and  a  pair  of  large  pillars 
which  support  one  of  the  arches  of  the  Vatican  Library, 
formed  of  L.  occhio  di  pavone.  Specimens  of  brocatello 
may  be  found  in  several  churches  and  palaces,  forming 
mouldings,  sheathings,  and  pedestals. 

The  most  interesting  of  the  Lumachella  marbles  is 
the  bt'anca  antica,  the  Marmor  Megarense  of  the  ancients, 
composed  of  shells  so  small  as  to  be  scarcely  discernible, 
and  so  closely  compacted  that  the  substance  takes  a 
good  polish.  The  well-known  Column  of  Trajan — the 
first  monument  {columna  cochlcBo)  of  this  description  ever 
raised  in  Rome,  and  far  superior  to  the  Antonine 
Column — is  composed  of  Lumachella  marble  from 
Megara.  It  presents,  in  twenty-three  spiral  bands  of  bas- 
reliefs,  winding  round  thirty- four  blocks  of  stone,  the 
history  of  the  victories  of  Trajan  over  the  Dacians,  and, 
without  reckoning  horses,  implements  of  war,  and  walls 
of  cities,  is  said  to  consist  of  no  less  than  two  thousand 
five  hundred  figures,  each  about  two  feet  two  inches  high. 
It  is  a  strikingly  suggestive  thought,  that  this  majestic 
pillar — which  produced  so  deep  an  impression  upon  the 
minds  of  posterity  that,  according  to  the  beautiful  legend, 
Pope  Gregory  the  (ireat  was  moved  to  supplicate,  by  means 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


349 


of  masses  in  several  of  the  Roman  churches,  for  the 
liberation  of  him  whom  it  commemorated  from  pur- 
gatory— should  be  composed  of  the  relics  of  sea-shells. 

"  Memorial  ]:)il]ar  !  'mid  tlie  wreck  of  Time, 
Preserve  thy  charge  with  confidence  sublime," 

said  Wordsworth ;  but  this  sublime  charge  is  committed 
to  frail  keeping.  It  is  itself  a  sepulchre  of  the  dead  ;  and 
the  tragedies  of  the  Dacian  war  are  inscribed  upon 
tragedies  that  took  place  long  ages  before  there  was  any 
human  eye  to  witness  them.  The  historic  sculptures 
that  so  deeply  move  our  pity  for  a  conquered  people, 
are  based  upon  the  immemorial  sculptures  of  creatures 
whose  sacrifice  in  whole  hecatombs  touches  us  not, 
because  it  is  part  of  the  order  of  the  world  by  which  life 
forms  the  foundation  of  and  minister  to  life.  It  is  strange 
how  many  of  the  grandest  monuments  are  wrought  out 
of  the  creations  of  primeval  molluscs.  The  enduring 
pyramids  themselves  are  formed  of  the  nummulitic 
limestone  studded  with  its  "  Pharaoh's  beans,"  the  exuvise 
of  shell-fish  that  perished  ages  before  the  Nile  had  created 
Egypt. 

Of  the  breccias  there  is  a  great  variety  among  the 
relics  of  ancient  Rome.  A  breccia  is  a  rock  made  up  of 
angular  pebbles  or  fragments  of  other  rocks.  When  the 
pebbles  are  rounded  the  conglomerate  is  a  pudding-stone. 
Marble  breccias  are  formed  of  angular  pieces  of  highly 
crystalline  limestone,  united  together  by  a  siliceo-calcare- 
ous  cement,  containing  usually  an  admixture  of  a  horn- 
blendic  substance,  and  which  is  due  to  a  particular  action 
of  adjacent  masses  or  veins  of  iron  ore.  The  hornblendic 
cenrient,  with  its  iron  or  manganese  base,  produces  the 
variegated  appearance  which  may  be  seen  in  specimens 
from  different  localities.  As  may  be  imagined  from  their 
composition,  these  rocks  are  as  a  rule  extremely  unalterable 
by  ordinary  atmospheric  agencies,  and  are  susceptible  of 
a  high  degree  of  polish,  which  they  retain  with  the  utmost 
tenacity.  They  were  favourite  materials  with  the  ancient 
Roman  decorators ;  but  they  do  not  occur  in  large  masses 


35° 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


in  the  city.  A  beautiful  pair  of  Roman  Ionic  columns 
under  the  pediment  of  the  altar  of  the  third  chapel  in 
the  Church  of  Ara  Cceli  are  made  of  a  valuable  breccia 
called  Breccia  dorata,  distinguished  by  its  small  light- 
golden  fragments  on  a  ground  of  various  shades  of  purple. 
The  high  altar  of  Santa  Vrisca  on  the  Aventine  is  supported 
by  one  column  of  Breccia  corallina  of  remarkably  fine 
quality,  in  which  the  fragments  are  white  on  a  ground  of 
light  coral-red.  In  the  second  chapel  of  St.  Andrea 
della  Valle  there  are  two  Corinthian  columns  of  Breccia 
gialla  e  nera,  which  is  an  aggregate  mass  of  yellow  and 
black  fragments  :  the  yellow  in  its  brilliant  golden  hue 
surpassing  that  of  all  other  marbles,  and  forming  a  strik- 
ing contrast  to  the  long  irregular  black  fragments  inter- 
spersed throughout  it.  In  the  first  chapel  of  the  same 
churcli  there  are  four  fluted  Corinthian  columns  of  breccia 
gialla,  containing  small  and  regular  blotches,  of  which 
the  prevailing  tint  is  orange,  each  fragment  edged  with  a 
rim  of  deeper  yellow  that  surrounds  it  like  a  shadow.  A 
most  beautiful  variety  of  Breccia  gialla  e  nera  forms  the 
basin  of  holy  water  at  the  entrance  of  the  Church  of  St. 
Carlo  di  Catinari,  in  which  "the  colours  resemble  a  golden 
network  spread  upon  a  ground  of  black";  and  an  exceed- 
ingly lovely  urn  is  seen  underneath  the  altar  in  one  of  the 
chapels  of  the  Portuguese  Church,  in  which  white  frag- 
ments are  imbedded  in  a  purple  ground  which  shines 
through  their  soft  transparency. 

Not  the  least  attractive  objects  in  the  chamber  of  the 
Dying  Gladiator  in  the  Museum  of  the  Capitol  area  portion 
of  a  large  column  of  very  beautiful  and  extremely  valuable 
Breccia  tracagnina,  in  which  golden-yellow,  white,  red,  and 
blue  fragments  occur  in  very  nearly  equal  proportions, 
and  two  large  pedestals  of  Breccia  di  Sete-Bassi — so 
called  from  the  discovery  of  the  first  specimens  near 
the  ruins  of  the  Villa  of  Septimus  Bassus  on  the  Appian 
Way — containing  very  small  purple  fragments  of  an 
oblong  shape,  which  is  the  characteristic  peculiarity  of 
all  the  varieties  of  this  species  of  marble.     Probably  the 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


351 


most  beautiful  of  all  the  ancient  breccias  is  that  called 
Breccia  della  Villa  Adriana,  from  its  occasional  occur- 
rence in  the  ruins  of  Hadrian's  Villa,  and  also  Breccia 
Quintilina,  from  its  having  been  found  in  the  grounds 
of  the  magnificent  Villa  of  Quintilius  Varus,  commemo- 
rated by  Horace,  at  Tivoli,  now  occupied  by  the  Church 
of  the  Madonna  di  Quintigliolo.  The  prevailing  colour 
of  the  fragments  is  that  of  a  dark  brown  intermixed  with 
others  of  smaller  size,  of  red,  green,  blue,  white,  purple, 
bright  yellow,  and  sometimes  black,  all  harmonising  to- 
gether most  beautifully.  The  comparatively  small  pieces 
found  at  Tivoli  now  adorn  the  Churches  of  St.  Andrea 
della  Valle,  famous  for  its  rich  varieties  of  breccias,  St. 
Domenico  e  Sisto  and  Santa  Pudenziana,  where  they 
appear  among  the  marble  sheathing  of  the  walls.  In 
the  chapel  of  the  Gaetani  in  the  last-mentioned  church, 
the  wall  is  incrusted  with  the  richest  marbles,  especially 
Lumachella  and  Brocatello,  and  large  tablets  of  Hadrian's 
breccia  setting  off  the  splendid  sarcophagus  of  Breccia 
nera  e  gialla  dedicated  to  Cardinal  Gaetani. 

Along  with  the  breccias  which  I  have  thus  incidentally 
noticed,  but  to  which  a  whole  essay  might  be  devoted  on 
account  of  their  beauty,  rich  variety,  and  great  value  and 
rarity,  should  be  classified  a  kind  of  "breccia  dure," 
called  Breccia  d'  Egitto.  It  is  not,  however,  a  true  breccia, 
but  a  pudding-stone,  composed,  not  of  calcareous  but  of 
siliceous  fragments ;  and  these  fragments  are  not  angular, 
as  in  the  true  breccias,  but  rounded,  indicating  that  they 
had  been  carried  by  water  and  consequently  rounded  by 
attrition.  The  connected  pebbles  must  have  been  broken 
from  rocks  of  great  hardness  to  have  withstood  the  effects 
of  constant  abrasion.  In  the  Egyptian  breccia  are  found 
very  fine  pebbles  of  red  granite,  porphyry  of  a  darker  or 
lighter  green,  and  yellow  quartz,  held  together  by  a 
cement  of  compact  felspar.  It  has  a  special  geological 
interest,  inasmuch  'as  it  represents  an  ancient  sea-beach 
flanking  the  crystalline  rocks  of  Upper  Egypt,  where  the 
cretaceous  and  nummuhtic  limestones  end.     The  pebbles 


■pi-^ 


352 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


were  derived  from  the  central  nucleus  of  granite  from 
beyond  Assouan  to  the  upper  end  of  the  Red  Sea,  round 
which  are  folded  successive  zones  of  gneiss  and  schist 
pierced  by  intrusive  masses  of  i)orphyry  and  serpentine. 
The  pair  of  beautiful  Grecian  Ionic  columns,  and  the 
large  green  tazza — eighteen  feet  in  circumference — the 
finest  specimen  of  Egyptian  breccia  to  be  seen  in  Rome, 
both  in  the  Villa  Albani,  and  the  vase  of  the  same 
material  in  the  chamber  of  Candelabra  in  the  Vatican,  in 
which  the  prevailing  green  colour  is  crossed  by  several 
stripes  of  pure  white  quartz,  may  thus  have  been  sculp- 
tured out  of  a  portion  of  littoral  deposit  formed  from  the 
ruins  of  the  crystalline  rocks  of  the  mountain  group  of 
Sinai.  There  is  something  extremely  interesting  and 
suggestive  to  the  imagination  in  the  twofold  origin  of 
these  conglomerate  ornaments  of  the  palaces  of  Rome. 
Around  them  gather  the  wonderful  associations  of  ancient 
human  history,  and  the  still  more  awe-inspiring  associa- 
tions of  geological  history.  They  speak  to  us  of  the 
conquests  of  Rome  in  the  desolate  tracts  of  Nubia  and 
Arabia,  from  which  the  spoils  that  enriched  its  palaces 
and  temples  were  derived  ;  and  of  the  existence  of  coast- 
lines, when  Egypt  was  a  gulf  stretching  from  the  Mediter- 
ranean to  the  Mountains  of  the  Moon,  which  became 
silted  up  by  slow  accumulations.  Their  language,  in 
both  relations,  is  that  of  ruin.  They  are  survivors  both 
of  the  ruins  of  Nature  and  of  Man,  and  are  made  up  of 
the  wrecks  of  both.  Older  far  than  the  marbles  which 
keep  them  company  in  the  sculptor's  halls  and  churches 
of  Rome,  and  whose  human  history  is  equally  eventful, 
their  materials  were  deposited  along  the  shore  of  a 
vanished  sea,  when  the  mountains  that  yielded  these 
marbles  lay  as  calcareous  mud  in  its  depths. 

Alabasters,  of  which  there  are  numerous  varieties,  from 
pure  diaphanous  white  to  the  deepest  black,  were  favourite 
decorative  materials  with  the  ancient  Romans.  The 
different  kinds  were  used  for  the  walls  of  baths,  vases, 
busts,  piliars,  and  sepulchral  lamps,  in  which  the  light 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


353 


shining  through  the  transparent  sides  had  an  agreeable 
softness.     Cornelius  Nepos,  as  quoted  by  Pliny,  speaks 
of  having  seen  columns  of  alabaster  thirty-two  feet  in 
length ;   and  Pliny  says  that  he  himself  had  seen  thirty 
huge  pillars  in  the  dining-hall  of  Callistus,  the  freedman 
of  Claudius.     One  such  column  still  exists  in  the  Villa 
Albani,  which  is  twenty-two  and  a  half  feet  in  height. 
The  ancients  obtained  large  blocks  of  alabaster  from 
quarries  in  Thebes  in  Egypt,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Damascus,  and  on  Mount  Taurus.    They  imported  some 
kinds  also   from   Cyprus,  Spain,  and   Northern   Africa. 
They  obtained  varieties  nearer  home,  in  different  parts 
of  Italy,    such    as    the    beautiful    Alabastro    di    Tivoli, 
employed  by  Hadrian  in  his  villa,  and  which  appears  to 
have  been  brought  from  Terni,  where  it  still  exists  in 
abundance.      From  the  quarry  near  Volterra  the  Etrus- 
cans   obtained    the    alabaster    for    their    cinerary    urns. 
The   European    alabasters  are   accumulated    masses   of 
stalactite  and  stalagmite,  formed  by  the  slow  dropping 
of  water  charged  with  sulphate  of  lime,  to  which  cir- 
cumstance they  owe  the  parallel  stripes  or  concentric 
circles  with  which  they  are  marked,  while  the  rich  and 
delicate  varieties  of  colouring  are  produced  by  the  oxides 
of  iron  which  the  water  carries  with  it  in  its  infiltration 
through  the  intervening  strata.     They  are  very  soft  and 
perishable,  and  consequently  are  very  rarely  found  among 
the  ruins  of  ancient  Rome.     The  Oriental  alabasters, 
on  the  other  hand,  which  are  distinguished  from  the 
European  by  their  superior  hardness  and  durability,  are 
in  reality  not  sulphates,  but  carbonates  of  lime.      Their 
hardness  is  quite  equal  to  that  of  the  best  statuary  marbles. 
The  ancient  quarries  on  the  hill — the  modern  Mount  St. 
Anthony— near  the  town  of  Alabastron,  in  Middle  Egypt, 
from  which  the  material  got  its  name,  have  only  recently 
been  re-opened,  but  blocks  of  large  size  and  perfect  beauty 
have  been  obtained.     Owing  to  the  facility  with  which 
alabaster  can  be  reduced  by  fire  to  lime,  very  few  large 
examples  of  it  in  Rome  have  escaped  the  ruthless  kilns 

2  A 


-'^ 


!/ 


354 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


of  the  middle  ages.  The  most  interesting  specimens  of 
ancient  alabaster  are  the  very  beautiful  vase  of  Alabastro 
cotognino,  prolate  in  form,  and  in  colour  white,  streaked 
with  very  light  pink,  which  contained  the  ashes  of 
Augustus,  found  in  the  ruins  of  his  mausoleum,  and  now 
in  the  Vatican  ;  the  bust  of  Julius  Ccesar,  made  of  the 
variety  tartaruga^  from  the  resemblance  of  its  brownish- 
yellow  markings  to  tortoise-shell,  in  the  Museum  of  the 
Capitol ;  and  the  two  large  blocks  of  alabastro  a  pecorella, 
brought  from  the  Villa  of  Hadrian,  in  the  fourth  portico 
of  the  Vatican,  the  largest  and  most  beautiful  specimens 
of  this  very  rare  alabaster  in  Rome,  distinguished  by 
white  circular  blotches,  like  a  flock  of  sheep  huddled 
together,  on  a  deep  blood-red  ground.  In  the  churches 
there  are  numerous  specimens  of  all  the  varieties,  forming 
the  columns  and  sheathings  of  altars,  memorial  chapels, 
and  monuments;  the  incrustations  of  alabaster  on  the 
walls  of  the  Borghese  chapel,  in  Santa  Maria  Maggiore, 
being  conspicuous  for  their  splendid  effect.  The  bal- 
dacchino  above  the  high  altar  of  St.  Paul's  is  supported 
by  four  splendid  columns  of  Oriental  alabaster  presented 
to  Gregory  XVI.  by  Mehemet  Ali,  the  viceroy  of  Egypt. 
An  interesting  collection  of  beautiful  and  valuable  varieties 
of  alabasters  may  be  made  in  connection  with  the  building 
operations  still  carried  on  in  the  unfinished  fagade  of  the 
basilica  fronting  the  Tiber. 

The  well-known  Verde  antico  is  not  a  marble,  but  a 
mixture  of  the  green  precious  serpentine  of  mineralogists 
and  white  granular  limestone.  It  may  also  be  called  a 
breccia,  for  it  is  composed  of  black  fragments,  larger  or 
smaller,  derived  from  other  rocks,  whose  angular  shape 
indicates  that  they  have  not  travelled  far  from  the  spots 
where  they  occur.  The  ancient  Romans  called  it  Lapis 
Atracius,  from  Atrax,  a  town  in  Thessaly,  in  the  vicinity 
of  which  it  was  found  It  can  hardly  be  distinguished, 
except  by  experts,  from  the  modern  green  marbles  of 
Vasallo  in  Sardinia,  and  Luca  in  Piedmont.  It  occurs 
somewhat  abundantly  in  Rome,  having  been  a  favourite 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


355 


material  with  the  old  Romans  for  sheathing  walls  and 
tables.      Magnificent  columns  of  it  were  introduced  into 
the  temples  and   triumphal  arches.       We  find  relics  of 
these   in    the   older   churches.       Four   splendid   fluted 
Corinthian  columns  of  Verde  antico,  with  gilded  capitals, 
support  the  pediment  of  the  high  altar  in  Sta.  Agnese,  in 
the  Piazza  Navone,  which  formerly  belonged  to  the  Arch 
of  Marcus  Aurelius  in  the  Corso.     A  pair  of  very  fine 
columns  of  this  precious  stone  flank  each  of  the  niches, 
containing  statues  of  the  twelve  apostles,  in  the  piers 
which  divide  the  middle  nave  from  the  side  ones  in  the 
Church  of  St.  John  Lateran.    These  twenty-four  columns 
are  remarkable  for  the  clearness  of  the  white,  green,  and 
black  colours  that  occur  in  them.      They  are  supposed 
to  have  been  taken  from  the  Baths  of  Diocletian.     Two 
of  the  splendid  composite  columns  which  support  the 
pediment  of  the  altar  in  the  Corsini  chapel  of  this  church 
are  of  this  marble,  and  were  also  taken  from  the  Arch  of 
Marcus  Aurelius  in  the  Corso.     One  most  magnificent 
column  of  Verde  antico  has  been  found,  along  with  seven 
others  of  different  marbles,  in  the  wall  of  the  narthex  of 
the  subterranean   Church  of  San   Clemente.     A   small 
portion  of  it  is  polished  to  show  the  beauty  of  the  material, 
while  the  rest  is  dimmed  and  incrusted  with  the  grime 
of  age. 

Very  different  from  this  is  the  ancient  serpentine  or 
ophite  of  Sparta  called  the  Lapis  Laceda^monius,  found 
in  different  hills  near  Krokee,  or  in  Mount  Taygetus  in 
Lacedaemon,  where  the  old  quarry  has  recently  been 
opened.  It  has  a  base  of  dark  green  with  angular 
crystals  of  felspar  of  a  lighter  green  imbedded  in  it.  It 
is  a  truly  eruptive  rock,  occurring  in  intrusive  bosses,  or 
in  beds  interstratified  with  gneiss  and  mica-schist,  and 
owes  its  various  shades  of  green  to  the  presence  of  copper. 
Owing  to  its  extraordinary  hardness,  this  stone  was  seldom 
used  for  architectural  purposes;  and  the  lapidary  will 
charge  three  times  as  much  for  working  a  fragment  of 
this  material  into  a  letter-weight  as  for  making  it  of  any 


i 


iWI-^l  I 


nmi 


356 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


other  stone.  A  pair  of  fluted  Roman  Ionic  columns,  sup- 
porting the  pediment  of  the  altar  of  the  chapel  of  St. 
John  the  Baptist,  in  the  Baptistery  of  St.  John  Lateran, 
are  the  only  examples  of  ophite  pillars  in  Rome.  Next 
to  these  the  largest  masses  are  a  circular  tablet,  forming 
part  of  the  splendid  sheathing  of  one  of  the  ambones  in 
the  Church  of  San  Lorenzo  ;  and  two  elliptical  tablets, 
still  larger,  engrafted  upon  the  pilasters  in  front  of  the 
high  altar  of  St.  Paul's. 

The  principal  use  to  which  this  stone  was  devoted  in 
Rome  was  the  construction  of  mosaic  pavements.  The 
emperor  Alexander  Severus  introduced  into  his  palaces 
and  public  buildings  a  kind  of  flooring  composed  of 
small  squares  of  green  serpentine  and  red  porphyry, 
wrought  into  elegant  patterns,  which  became  very  fashion- 
able, and  was  called  after  himself  Opus  Aiexandrinum. 
The  infamous  Heliogabalus  had  previously  paved  some 
of  the  courts  of  the  Palatine  with  such  intarsio  work,  but 
his  cousin  Alexander  Severus,  following  his  example, 
adorned  with  it  all  the  terraces  and  walks  around,  and 
the  pavements  within,  the  isolated  villas  called  Dia^toe, 
dedicated  to  his  mother  Mammaea,  which  he  added  to 
the  Palatine  buildings.  We  have  examples  of  this 
beautiful  kind  of  tesselated  pavement  in  some  of  the 
chambers  of  the  Baths  of  Caracalla ;  and  it  is  highly 
probable  that  the  Opus  Aiexandrinum  in  the  transept  and 
middle  nave  of  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  in  Trastevere 
is  in  part  at  least  contemporaneous  with  Alexander 
Severus,  who  conceded  the  ground  on  which  the  original 
oratory  stood  to  Pope  Calixtus  I.  in  222,  for  the  special 
use  of  the  Christians.  If  this  be  so,  we  have  in  this  first 
place  of  Christian  worship  established  in  Rome  the  first 
instance  of  the  application  of  Opus  Alexandrirmvi  to 
the  decoration  of  a  church.  In  the  middle  ages  the 
fashion  was  beautifully  imitated  by  artists  of  the  Cosmati 
family  and  their  school ;  and  the  mosaic  pavements  of 
this  kind  in  the  medieval  churches  of  Rome  are  no  older 
than  this  period.     But  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  the 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


357 


Opus  Alexandri7ium  in  two  of  the  chapels  of  Santa  Maria 
degli  Angeli  was  taken  from  the  Baths  of  Diocletian; 
while  the  splendid  pavement  of  the  whole  church,  naves, 
transept,  and  choir  of  Santa  Croce  in  Jerusalemme, 
formed  originally  part  of  the  decorations  of  the  Sessorian 
Palace  of  Sextus  Varius,  the  father  of  Heliogabalus,  after 
whom  the  church  is  sometimes  called  the  Sessorian 
Basilica.  The  flooring  of  the  whole  upper  church  of  San 
Clemente  was  transferred  from  the  older  subterranean 
church,  which  derived  its  pavement  from  some  of  the 
ruins  of  the  Palatine  or  the  Forum ;  and  the  serpentine 
fragments,  which  enter  very  largely  into  the  composition 
of  the  curious  old  mosaic  floor  of  Ara  Coeli  must  have 
had  a  similar  origin  as  far  back  as  the  time  of  its  founder, 
Gregory  the  Great.  The  Lapis  Laceda>mo7iius  must  have 
been  very  abundant  in  Rome  during  the  time  of  Alexander 
Severus — ^judging  from  the  quantities  that  are  made  up 
into  mosaics  in  the  churches,  and  the  heaps  of  broken 
fragments  that  are  found  on  the  Palatine  and  at  the 
Marmorata.  The  circular  space  around  the  obelisk  in 
the  Piazza  of  St.  Peter's  to  a  considerable  extent  is  paved 
with  it ;  and  specimens  of  it  frequently  occur  among  the 
ordinary  road-metal  in  the  city  and  neighbourhood. 

Sicilian  jaspers,  so  called,  though  really  marbles,  and 
purely  calcareous,  because  of  their  resemblance  in  colour 
and  form  of  the  blotches  to  jasper,  were  wrought  in  great 
variety  in  the  quarries  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
celebrated  Taormina,  and  w^ere  transported  in  the  form 
of  columns  to  Rome.  Siliceous  jasper,  obtained  from 
the  crystalline  rocks  of  Asia  Minor,  Egypt,  and  Northern 
Italy,  were  also  used  for  columns  ;  and  their  brilliant  red, 
green,  and  yellow  hues,  highly  polished,  contrasted 
beautifully  with  the  white  marbles  of  the  interiors  of 
the  palaces.  An  even  more  sumptuous  material  called 
Murrha  was  employed,  which  has  been  identified  with 
fluor-spar,  a  translucent  crystalline  stone  marked  with 
blue,  red,  and  purple,  similar  to  the  beautiful  substance 
found  near  Matlock  in  Derbyshire.     Of  this  fluor-spar 


I 


\ 


(t 


358 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


were  formed  the  celebrated  murrhine  cups  which  were 
in  use  in  Rome  in  the  days  of  Pliny  among  the  richest 
people,    and    for    which    fabulous    prices    were    paid. 
Several  blocks  of  this  material  were  found  some  years 
ago  at  the  Marmorata  which   had   been   originally  im- 
ported from  Parthia  in  the  reign  of  Hadrian.      One  of 
them  was  employed  by  the  Jesuits,  when  cut  up  into 
thin   slices,  in  ornamenting   the   principal   altar  in   the 
church  of  II  Gesu.     One  of  the  chambers  in  the  Baths 
of  Titus  was  paved  with  slabs  of  the  finest  lapis  lazula — 
the   Lapis   Cyamis  of  the  ancients — derived  from  the 
spoils  of  the  Golden  House  of  Nero,  and  originally  pro- 
cured by  order  of  the  luxurious  tyrant  from  Persia  and  the 
neighbourhood  of  Lake  Baikal.     We  can  trace  fragments 
of  this  exquisite  pavement  in  the  decoration  of  the  chapel 
of  St.  Ignatius  in  the  Church  of  the  Jesuits.     The  globe, 
three  feet  in  diameter,  over  the   altar,  beneath  which 
repose  the  remains  of  Ignatius  Loyola,  is  sheathed  with 
this  most  precious  stone,  whose  brilliant  blue,  contrasting 
with  the  white  marble  of  the  group  of  the  Trinity — one 
of  whose  members  holds  it  in  His  hands — has  a  splendid 
effect.   The  rare  and  costly  marbles  with  which  the  Church 
of  II  Gesu  is  profusely  adorned  were  mostly  taken  from  the 
ruins  of  the  Baths  of  Titus  by  Cardinal  Farnese  in  1568. 
From  the  same  source  came  also  the  magnificent  sar- 
cophagus, sheathed  with  lapis  lazula,  under  the  altar  of 
St.  Ignazio,  which  holds  the  body  of  St.  Luigi  Gonzaga. 
But  it  is  impossible,  within  the  limits  of  this  chapter, 
to  describe  fully  the  relics  of  other  precious  and  beautiful 
stones  which  may  be  found  among  the  ruins  of  ancient 
Rome,  or  among  the  churches  to  which  they  have  been 
transferred.      Profuse  as  were   the  ancient   Romans  in 
their  general  expenditure,  upon  no  objects  did  they  lavish 
their  wealth   so   extravagantly  as  upon  their   favourite 
marbles  and  precious  stones  for  the  decoration  of  their 
public  buildings  and  their  private  houses.     No  effort  was 
spared  that  Rome  might  be  adorned  with  the  richest 
treasures  of  the  mineral  kingdom  from  all  parts  of  the 


THE  MARBLES  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 


359 


world.  Slaves  and  criminals  were  made  to  minister  to 
this  luxury  in  the  various  quarries  of  the  Roman  domin- 
ions, which  were  the  penal  settlements  of  antiquity. 
The  antiquary  Ficoroni  counted  the  columns  in  Rome  in 
the  year  1700,  and  he  found  no  less  than  eight  thousand 
existing  entire ;  and  yet  these  were  but  a  very  small 
proportion  of  the  number  that  must  once  have  been 
there.  The  palaces  and  modern  churches  of  Rome  owe, 
as  I  have  said,  all  their  ornaments  to  this  passion  of  the 
ancients.  There  is  not  a  doorstep  nor  a  guardstone  at 
the  corner  of  the  meanest  court  in  Rome  which  is  not  of 
marble,  granite,  or  porphyry  from  some  ancient  building. 
Almost  all  the  houses,  as  Raphael  said,  have  been  built 
with  lime  made  of  the  costly  old  marbles.  The  very 
streets  in  the  newly-formed  parts  of  the  city  are  maca- 
damised with  the  fragments  of  costly  baths  and  pillars. 
I  took  up  one  day,  out  of  curiosity,  some  of  the  road- 
metal  near  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  and  I 
identified  in  the  handful  no  less  than  a  dozen  varieties 
of  the  most  beautiful  marbles  and  porphyries  from 
Greece,  Africa,  and  Asia.  And  when  we  remember 
that  all  these  foreign  stones  were  brought  into  Rome 
during  the  interval  between  the  end  of  the  Republic  and 
the  time  of  Constantine — a  period  of  between  three 
hundred  and  four  hundred  years — we  can  form  some 
idea  of  the  extraordinary  wealth  and  luxury  of  the 
Imperial  City  when  it  was  in  its  prime. 


nil   M  r 


It 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE    VATICAN    CODEX 

Among  the  numberless  objects  of  interest  to  be  seen 
in  Rome,  a  very  high  place  must  be  assigned  to  the 
Codex  Vaticanus,  probably  the  oldest  vellum  manuscript 
in  existence,  and  the  richest  treasure  of  the  great  Vatican 
Library.  This  famous  manuscript,  which  Biblical  scholars 
designate  by  the  letter  B,  contains  the  oldest  copy  of  the 
Septuagint,  and  the  first  Greek  version  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. In  addition  to  the  profound  interest  which  its 
own  intrinsic  value  has  inspired,  it  has  been  invested 
with  a  halo  of  romance  seldom  associated  with  dry 
palceographical  studies — on  account  of  the  unreasonable 
jealousy  and  capricious  conduct  of  its  guardians.  For 
a  long  time  it  was  altogether  inaccessible  for  study  to 
Biblical  scholars,  and  few  were  allowed  even  to  see  it. 
These  restrictions,  however,  have  now  happily  to  a  con- 
siderable extent  been  removed  ;  and  provided  with  an 
order,  easily  obtained  from  the  Vatican  librarian,  or  from 
the  Prefect  of  the  sacred  palaces,  in  reply  to  a  polite 
note,  any  respectable  person  is  permitted  to  inspect  it. 

The  first  feeling  which  one  has  in  the  Vatican  Library 
is  that  of  surprise.  You  -might  walk  through  the  Great 
Hall  and  adjoining  galleries  without  suspecting  the  place 
to  be  a  library  at  all ;  for  the  bookcases  that  line  the 
lower  portion  of  the  walls  are  closed  with  panelled  doors, 
painted  in  arabesque  on  a  ground  of  white  and  slate 
colour,  and  surrounded   by  gilded  mouldings,  and  not 


CHAP.  XI 


THE  VATICAN  CODEX 


361 


a  single  book  is  visible.  The  vaulted  ceiling  of  the  rooms 
is  glowing  with  gold  and  ultramarine ;  the  walls  are 
adorned  with  beautiful  frescoes  representing  the  different 
Councils  of  the  Church ;  and  magnificent  tables  of 
polished  Oriental  granite,  and  of  various  precious  marbles, 
vases  of  porphyry,  malachite,  and  alabaster,  and  priceless 
candelabra  of  Sevres  china — the  gifts  of  kings  and  em- 
perors— occupy  the  spaces  between  the  pillars  and 
pilasters,  and  cast  their  rich  shadows  on  the  gleaming 
marble  pavement.  A  vast  variety  of  objects  of  rare 
beauty,  artistic  value,  and  antique  interest  arrest  the 
attention,  and  would  amply  reward  the  study  of  weeks. 

The  nucleus  of  the  present  magnificent  collection 
of  books  and  manuscripts  was  formed  in  the  Lateran 
Palace  in  the  year  465  by  Bishop  Hilary;  and,  aug- 
mented by  succeeding  pontiffs,  the  accumulated  stores 
were  transferred  in  1450  by  Pope  Nicholas  V.,  the 
founder  of  Glasgow  University,  to  the  Vatican.  What 
Nicholas  began  was  completed  by  Sixtus  IV.  The 
library  was  classified  according  to  subjects  and  writers, 
and  Demetrius  Lucensis,  under  the  direction  of  Platina, 
made  a  catalogue  of  it  which  is  still  in  existence. 
During  this  period  Vatican  MSS.  were  lent  out  to 
students,  as  attested  by  authentic  registers  containing 
the  autographs  of  those  who  enjoyed  the  privilege.  A 
little  later  the  celebrated  Vatican  printing  press  was 
annexed  to  the  library;  and  the  office  of  correctors  or 
readers  for  the  accurate  printing  of  ancient  books  which 
were  wanting  in  the  library  was  instituted.  Pope 
Sixtus  V.  erected  the  present  splendid  edifice,  and  used 
every  effort  to  increase  the  great  collection.  Several 
valuable  accessions  were  made  to  it  after  this  date, 
including  the  library  of  the  Elector  Palatine  of  Germany, 
the  library  of  the  Dukes  of  Urbino,  the  libraries  of 
Christina,  Queen  of  Sweden,  of  the  Ottoboni,  com- 
menced by  Pope  Alexander  VIII.,  and  of  the  Marquis 
Capponi,  and  the  MSS.  taken  from  the  convent  of  S. 
Basilio  at   Grotta   Ferrata      Under  Innocent  XIII.  in 


I 


} 


i 


362 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


1 7  2 1  an  attempt  was  made  to  prepare  for  the  press  a 
full  catalogue  of  all  the  MSS.  in  every  language.  It 
was  edited  by  Joseph  Simon  Assemani  and  Stephen 
Evodius,  and  three  volumes  were  published.  But  the 
task  was  found  too  great  for  any  one's  strength,  and 
was  given  up  finally  on  account  of  the  political  disturb- 
ances of  the  time. 

The  library  is  a  vast  unexplored  mine  of  wealth. 
Unknown  literary  treasures  are  contained  in  the  closed 
cabinets.  Among  the  thirty  thousand  manuscripts  may 
be  hid  some  of  the  ancient  classical  and  early  Christian 
treatises,  which  have  been  lost  for  ages,  and  whose 
recovery  would  excite  the  profoundest  interest  through- 
out the  civilised  world.  A  large  number  of  these 
manuscripts  had  once  belonged  to  the  library  of  the 
famous  Monastery  of  Bobbio,  in  the  north  of  Italy, 
founded  in  the  year  614  by  the  Irish  St.  Columbanus. 
The  Irish  and  Scotch  monks  who  inhabited  this  monast- 
ery were  in  the  dark  ages  the  most  zealous  collectors  of 
manuscripts  in  Europe.  At  the  close  of  the  fifteenth 
century  the  convent  was  impoverished  and  deserted  by 
its  lawful  occupants ;  and  the  Benedictine  monks  who 
succeeded  them  gave  away  their  literary  treasures  partly 
to  the  Ambrosian  Library  at  Milan  and  pardy  to  the 
Vatican  Library.  Cardinal  Angelo  Mai,  who  discovered 
more  lost  works  and  transcribed  more  ancient  manu- 
scripts than  any  one  else,  found  among  these  treasures 
in  Milan  and  Rome  several  most  interesting  treatises 
that  had  long  passed  into  utter  oblivion. 

But  though  permission  is  freely  granted  to  duly 
accredited  visitors  who  may  be  desirous  of  consulting 
manuscripts,  the  labour  of  searching  among  the  huge 
bewildering  piles  would  be  overwhelming,  and  the 
thought  of  it  would  at  once  paralyse  effort  There  is 
no  proper  catalogue  of  the  printed  books ;  and  the  list 
of  manuscripts  is  so  deficient  as  to  be  altogether  worth- 
less. During  six  months,  from  November  till  June,  the 
library  is  open  for   study  every  day,   except  Thursday 


XT 


THE  VATICAN  CODEX 


363 


and  the  numerous  saints'  days,  whose  recurrence  can  be 
easily  ascertained  beforehand  so  as  to  prevent  disappoint- 
ment. I  cannot  imagine  a  greater  privilege  to  a  student. 
It  is  the  highest  luxury  of  learning  to  explore  the  literary 
wealth  of  these  princely  apartments,  that  seem  to  have 
a  climate  of  their  own,  like  the  great  Basilica  close  at 
hand — the  climate  of  eternal  spring — and  whose  atmo- 
sphere breathes  the  associations  of  much  that  is  grandest 
and  most  memorable  in  human  history.  To  the  charms 
of  some  of  the  noblest  productions  of  human  genius 
working  by  pen,  or  pencil,  or  chisel — adorning  roof,  and 
wall,  and  floor — and  vanishing  down  the  long  vista  in 
a  bright  perspective  of  beauty — Nature  adds  her  crown 
of  perfection.  For  nothing  can  exceed  the  loveliness  of 
the  views  from  the  windows  of  the  Papal  gardens  outside, 
with  their  gay  flowery  parterres,  sparkling  fountains, 
depths  of  shadowy  glades  and  half-hidden  sculptured 
forms  of  rarest  beauty ;  and,  beyond,  a  purple  mountain 
range,  summits  old  in  story,  closing  up  the  enchanted 
vista  through  the  ruddy  stems  and  deep  green  foliage  of 
tall  stone-pines ;  the  whole  glowing  in  the  brilliant  sun- 
shine and  the  exquisite  violet  transparency  of  the  Roman 
sky.  How  delightful  to  spend  whole  days  there  and  for- 
get the  commonplace  present  in  converse  with  the  master 
minds  of  the  ages,  and  in  dreams  of  the  heroic  past ;  the 
half-closed  shutters  and  drawn  curtains  producing  a 
cool  and  drowsy  atmosphere,  in  delicious  contrast  with 
the  broiling  sun  without !  Learning,  however,  would  be 
too  apt  to  fall  asleep,  and  be  shorn  of  its  strength  on  the 
Delilah  lap  of  such  splendid  luxury. 

A  few  of  the  most  interesting  books  and  manuscripts 
are  now  contained  in  two  handsome  cabinets  placed  in 
the  centre  of  the  Great  Hall  of  the  library.  These 
cabinets  have  two  cases,  an  outer  and  an  inner  one,  and 
are  carefully  double-locked.  The  librarian  opened  them 
for  me,  and  displayed  their  contents,  which  are  usually 
seen  only  through  a  thick  plate  of  protecting  glass.  In 
the  one  cabinet  were  a    manuscript  of  the  Latin  poet 


ill 


■— ♦y 


364 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Terence,  of  the  fourth  and  fifth  century  ;  the  celebrated 
paHmpsest  of  Cicero  de  RepubUca,  concealed  under  a 
version  of  St.  Augustine's  Commentary  on  the  Psalms, 
the  oldest  Latin  manuscript  in  existence ;  the  famous 
Virgil  of  the  fifth  century,  with  the  well-known  portrait 
of  Virgil ;  the  Homilies  of  St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzum ; 
the  folio  Hebrew  Bible,  which  was  the  only  thing  that 
Duke  Frederico  of  Urbino  reserved  for  himself  of  the 
spoil  at  the  capture  of  Volterra  in  1472,  and  for  which 
the  Jews  in  Venice  offered  its  weight  in  gold ;  a  sketch 
of  the  first  three  cantos  of  the  Gerusalemme  Liberata  in 
the  handwriting  of  Tasso ;  a  copy  of  Dante  in  the  hand- 
writing of  Boccaccio  ;  and  several  of  Petrarch's  auto- 
graph sonnets.  In  the  other  cabinet  is  the  great  gem 
and  glory  of  the  Library  —  the  Codex  Vaticanus,  in 
strange  association  with  a  number  of  the  love-letters  of 
Henry  VHL  and  Anne  Boleyn,  in  French  and  English. 
This  curious  correspondence — which,  after  all  that  sub- 
sequently happened  between  the  English  monarch  and 
the  Papal  Court,  we  are  very  much  surprised  to  see  in 
such  a  place — is  in  wonderful  preservation.  But  though 
perfectly  legible,  the  archaic  form  of  the  characters  and 
the  numerous  abbreviations  make  it  extremely  difficult 
to  decipher  them.  The  tragic  ending  of  this  most  in- 
auspicious love-making  invests  with  a  deep  pathos  these 
faded  yellow  records  of  it  that  seem  like  the  cold 
gray  ashes  of  a  once  glowing  fire.  In  the  same  cabinet 
is  seen  another  and  altogether  different  production  of 
this  royal  author — namely,  the  dedication  copy  of  the 
"  Assertio  Septem  Sacramentorum  adversus  Martinum 
Luther,"  written  in  Latin  by  Henry  VIII.  in  defence  of 
the  seven  Roman  Catholic  Sacraments  against  Luther, 
and  sent  to  Leo  X.,  with  the  original  presentation 
address  and  royal  autograph.  The  book  is  a  good 
thick  octavo  volume,  printed  in  London,  in  clear  type, 
on  vellum,  with  a  broad  margin.  Only  two  copies  are 
in  existence,  one  in  the  Bodleian  Library  at  Oxford, 
and  the  other  in  the  Vatican.     For  this  theological  dis- 


XI 


THE  VATICAN  CODEX 


3&5 


sertation  Henry  VIII.  received  from  the  Pope  the  title 
of  "  Defender  ot  the  Faith,"  which  has  descended  to  the 
Protestant  monarchs  of  England  ever  since,  and  is  now 
inscribed  on  our  coinage.  Luther,  several  of  whose 
manuscripts  are  in  the  Library,  published  a  vigorous 
reply,  in  which  he  treated  his  royal  opponent  with  scant 
ceremony.  The  author  himself  had  no  scruple  in 
setting  it  aside  when  his  personal  passions  were  aroused. 
And  Rome  has  put  this  inconsistent  book  beside  the 
letters  to  Anne  Boleyn,  as  it  were  in  the  pillory  here  for 
the  condemnation  of  the  world. 

But  deeply  interesting  as  were  these  literary  curiosities, 
I  soon  turned  from  them  and  became  engrossed  with  the 
priceless  manuscript  of  the  Greek  Scriptures.  I  had  very 
little  time  to  inspect  it,  for  I  was  afraid  to  exhaust  the 
patience  of  the  librarian.  In  appearance  the  manuscript 
is  a  quarto  volume  bound  in  red  morocco ;  each  of  the 
pages  being  about  eleven  inches  long,  and  the  same  in 
breadth.  This  is  the  usual  size  of  the  greater  number 
of  ancient  manuscripts,  very  few  being  in  folio  or  octavo, 
and  in  this  particular  resembling  printed  books.  Each 
page  has  three  columns,  containing  seventeen  or  eighteen 
letters  in  a  line.  It  is  supposed  that  this  arrangement 
of  the  writing  was  borrowed  directly  from  the  most 
primitive  scrolls,  whose  leaves  were  joined  together 
lengthwise,  so  that  their  contents  always  appeared  in 
parallel  columns,  as  we  see  in  the  papyrus  rolls  that 
have  recently  been  discovered.  This  peculiarity  in  the 
two  or  three  manuscripts  which  possess  it,  is  regarded 
as  a  proof  of  their  very  high  antiquity.  The  writing  on 
almost  every  page  is  so  clear  and  distinct  that  it  can  be 
read  with  the  greatest  ease. 

What  astonishes  one  most  is  the  admirable  preserva- 
tion of  this  Codex,  notwithstanding  that  it  must  be  nearly 
sixteen  hundred  years  old.  It  has  quite  a  fresh  and 
recent  look  ;  indeed  many  manuscripts  not  fifty  years  old 
look  much  more  ancient.  No  one,  looking  at  the  faded 
handwriting  of  Tasso,  Petrarch,  and  Henry  VIIL,  beside 


'^ 


366 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


it,  would  imagine  that  they  were  newer  by  upwards  of 
twelve  hundred  years.  This  peculiarity  it  shares  in 
common  with  the  architectural  remains  of  imperial  Rome, 
which  time  has  dealt  so  tenderly  with  that  they  appear 
far  more  recent  than  the  picturesque  ruins  of  our  medie- 
val castles  and  abbeys.  This  singular  look  of  freshness 
in  the  Vatican  manuscript  is  owing  to  three  causes.  In 
the  first  place,  the  vellum  upon  which  it  is  written  is 
exceedingly  fine  and  close-grained  in  texture,  and  there- 
fore has  resisted  the  dust  and  discoloration  of  centuries, 
just  as  the  thin  and  close-grained  Roman  brick  has  with- 
stood the  ravages  of  time.  Every  one  is  struck  with  the 
wonderful  beauty  of  this  vellum,  composed  of  the  delicate 
skins  of  very  young  calves.  And  this  feature  is  a  further 
proof  of  the  high  antiquity  of  the  Codex,  for  the  oldest 
manuscripts  are  invariably  written  on  the  thinnest  and 
whitest  vellum,  while  those  of  later  ages  are  written  on 
thick  and  rough  parchment  which  speedily  became  dis- 
coloured. In  the  second  place,  we  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  the  manuscript  was  for  many  ages  almost 
hermetically  sealed  in  some  forgotten  recess  of  the 
Lateran  and  Vatican  Libraries,  and  thus  unconsciously 
guarded  from  the  attacks  of  time.  In  the  third  place, 
a  careful  scrutiny  of  the  individual  lines  reveals  the 
curious  fact  that  the  whole  manuscript,  six  or  seven 
centuries  after  it  had  been  written,  was  gone  over  by  a 
writer,  who,  finding  the  letters  faint  and  yellow,  had 
touched  them  up  with  a  blacker  and  more  permanent  ink. 
It  is  a  strange  circumstance  that  none  of  the  facsimile 
representations  of  the  pages  of  the  manuscript  that  have 
been  published  give  a  correct  idea  of  the  original,  with 
the  exception  of  that  of  Dean  Burgon  in  187 1.  Not 
only  do  the  number  of  lines  in  a  given  space  in  all  the 
so-called  facsimiles  differ  from  that  of  the  manuscript, 
but  the  general  character  of  the  letters  is  widely  different. 
The  importance  of  seeing  the  original,  therefore,  for  pur- 
poses of  study,  is  apparent.  The  uncial  letters  are  very 
small  and  neat,  upright  and  regular,  and  their  breadth  is 


-5' 


-  #'iH**r  •  -I  iiMiM 


■Ttrm» 


la^aa^ 


XI 


THE  VATICAN  CODEX 


367 


nearly  equal  to  their  height.     They  are  very  like  those 
in  the  manuscript  rolls  of  Herculaneum.      Originally  the 
manuscript  had   no  ornamental  initial  letters,   marks  of 
punctuation,  or  accents ;  a  small  interval  of  the  breadth 
of  a  letter  at  the  end  of  particular  sections  serving  as  a 
simple  mode  of  punctuation.     The  number  of  such  divi- 
sions into  sections  is  very  considerable, — one  hundred 
and  seventy  occurring  in  St.   Matthew ;  sixty-one  in  St. 
Mark  ;  one  hundred  and  fifty-two  in  St.  Luke  ;  and  eighty 
in  St.  John, — and  in  this  respect  the  Vatican  Codex  is 
unique.     Where  these  divisions  do  not  occur,  the  writing 
is  continuous  for  several  consecutive  pages.     Thus,  while 
each  of  the  beatitudes,  each  of  the  parables,  and  each  of 
the  series  of  generations  in  the  genealogies  of  our  Lord,  are 
marked  off  into  separate  paragraphs  by  the  small  empty 
spaces  referred  to,  there  is  no  break  in  the  text  from  the 
twenty-fourth   verse  of  the  seventeenth  chapter  of  the 
Gospel  of  St.  Matthew  to  the  seventeenth  verse  of  the 
twentieth   chapter.      So    much   has   space   been   econo- 
mised, that  when  the  writer  finished  one  book  he  began 
another    at    the    top    of    the    very    next    column ;    and 
throughout  the   manuscript   there   are  very  few  breaks, 
and  only  one  entire  column  left  blank.     This  empty 
space   is  very  significant ;   it  occurs  at  the  end  of  the 
eighth  verse   of  the    sixteenth    chapter   of  St.    Mark's 
Gospel, — thus  omitting  altogether  the  last  twelve  verses 
with  which  we  are  familiar.     That  this  was  done  pur- 
posely is  evident,  for  it  involved  a  departure  from  the 
writer's  usual  method  of  continuous  writing.     The  blank 
column  testifies  that  he  knew  of  the  existence  of  this 
gap  at  the  end  of  the  Gospel,  but  did  not  know  of  any 
thoroughly  trustworthy  material  with  which  to  fill  it  up. 
And  acting  upon  this  authority  our  Revisers  have  printed 
the  passage  that  has  been  supplied  as  an  appendix,  and 
not  as  a  portion  of  the   original  Gospel  of  St   Mark. 
The    only    attempt    at    ornamentation    in    the    Vatican 
manuscript  is  found  at  the  end  of  Lamentations,  Ezekiel, 
St.  John's  Gospel,  and  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  where 


f  I 


368 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


ii 


an  arabesque  column  of  crossed  lines,  with  dots  in  the 
intersections  at  the  edge,"  and  surmounted  by  the  well- 
known  monogram  of  Christ,  so  frequent  in  the  inscriptions 
of  the  Catacombs,  composed  of  the  letter  P  in  a  cruci- 
form shape,  has  been  delicately  and  skilfully  executed  by 
the  pen  of  the  scribe.  Most  of  the  books  have  also  brief 
titles  and  subscriptions. 

Such  was  the  original  state  of  the  Codex,  but  the 
critic  of  the  ninth  or  tenth  century  already  referred  to 
introduced  a  great  many  changes.      Not  only   did  he 
deepen  the  colour  of  the  ink  ;  he,  as  Dean  Burgon  tells 
us,   also   accentuated    the   words    carefully  throughout, 
marking  all  the  initial  vowels  with  their  proper  breath- 
ings.    He  also  placed  instead  of  the  small  initial  letter 
of  each  book  an  illuminated  capital  six  times  the  size  of 
the  original  uncial,  painted  in  bright  red  and  blue  colours 
which  have  still  retained  nearly  all  their  old  brilliancy. 
At  the  top  of  the  column,  whenever  a  new  book  com- 
menced, he  also  placed  a  broad  bar  painted  in  green, 
with  three  little  red  crosses  above  it.     Nor  was  this  all ; 
he  exercised  his  critical  judgment  in  revising  the  text,  and 
marking  his  approval  or  disapproval  by  certain  significant 
indications.     "What  he  approved  of  he  touched  up  anew 
with  ink,  and  added  the  proper  accents  ;  what  he  con- 
demned he  left  in  the  faded  brown  caligraphy  of  the 
original   and   without   accentuation."     In   this   way   the 
Codex  may  be  called  a  kind  of  palimpsest,  in  which  we 
have  some  portions  of  the  original  manuscript,  and  the 
rest  overlaid  with  the  later  revision.     We  must  discrimin- 
ate carefully  between  these  two  elements  ;  for  it  is  obvious 

that  it  is  the  oldest  portion  that  is  most  interesting  and 

suggestive. 

The  Codex  consists  of  upwards  of  one  thousand  five 
hundred  pages,  of  which  two  hundred  and  eighty-four  are 
assigned  to  the  New  Testament.  Originally  it  contained 
the  whole  Bible,  and  also  the  Apocrypha  and  the  Epistle 
of  St.  Clement  to  the  Corinthians;  which  last  was  so 
much   esteemed   by    the    early    Christians   that    it  was 


XI 


THE  VATICAN  CODEX 


^ 


369 


regularly  read  in  the  churches,  and  bound  up  with  the 
Scriptures — to  which  circumstance,  indeed,  we  are  in- 
debted for  its  preservation  to  our  own  time.     At  present 
the  greater  part  of  Genesis  and  a  part  of  the  Psalms  are 
missing  from  the  old   Testament;  while,   in   the   New 
Testament,  the  Epistle  to  Philemon,  the  three  Pastoral 
Epistles,  the  latter  part  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews, 
and   the   Apocalypse,    in   the    original   handwriting,    are 
lost ;  their  place  having  been  supplied,  it  is  said,  in  the 
fifteenth  century,  from  a  manuscript  belonging  to  Cardinal 
Bessarion.    From  the  evidence  of  its  materials — arrange- 
ment and  style  of  writing — the  very  high  antiquity  of  this 
Codex  may  be  inferred.      It  is  generally  supposed  to  have 
been   written   in   the  beginning  of  the   fourth  century. 
Vercellone,  who  edited  Cardinal  Mai's  version  of  it,  argues, 
from  the  remarkable  correspondence  of  its  text  with  that 
used  by  Cyril  of  Alexandria  in  his  Commentary  on  St. 
John,  that  it  must  have  been  written  at  Alexandria,  where 
there  was  a  band  of  remarkably  skilful  caligraphists.    He 
believes  that  it  was  one  of  the  fifty  manuscript  copies  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures   which    Eusebius,  by  order  of  the 
emperor  Constantine  the  Great,  got  prepared  in  the  year 
332  for  the  use  of  the  Christian  Church  in  the  newly- 
formed  capital  of  Constantinople.      And  a  circumstance 
that  seems  to  corroborate  this  opinion  is,  that  the  Vatican 
Codex  does  not  contain,  as  has  already  been  mentioned, 
the  last  twelve  verses  of  St.  Mark's  Gospel,  a  peculiarity 
which  Eusebius  says  belongs  to  the  best  manuscripts  of 
the  Gospels.     On  this  supposition,  the  Vatican  Codex 
would  be  the  very  first  edition  of  the  Bible  that  had  the 
seal  of  a  sovereign  authority. 

But  it  may  be  of  even  older  date  than  the  time  of 
Constantine,  for  its  marginal  references  do  not  corre- 
spond with  the  Eusebian  canons ;  and  this  fact  would 
seem  to  imply  that  it  belonged  to  the  third  century. 
Its  only  rival  in  point  of  antiquity  is  the  famous  Sinaitic 
Codex,  known  by  the  Hebrew  letter  fc<,  discovered  in  a 
most  romantic  way  by  Tischehdorf  in  the  Convent  of 

2  B 


Mwa)faiit»a»aiaww*rf^:  ■:inf.  "t-'s'-^m 


370 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


St.  Catherine  on  Mount  Sinai.  Tischendorf  has  pro- 
nounced a  decided  opinion,  not  only  that  this  manu- 
script is  of  the  same  age  as  the  Vatican  one,  but  that 
the  Vatican  manuscript  was  written  by  one  of  the  four 
writers  who,  he  infers  from  internal  evidence,  must  have 
been  employed  upon  the  Sinaitic  Codex.  This  opinion, 
however,  has  been  disputed  by  other  scholars ;  and  it 
seems  improbable,  for  the  Sinaitic  Codex  has  four 
columns  to  the  page,  whereas  the  Vatican  Codex  has 
only  three.  Its  uncial  letters  are  also  much  larger  and 
plainer  than  those  of  the  Vatican  manuscript;  and  it  has 
the  Ammonian  sections  and  Eusebian  canons  written  in 
all  probability  by  the  original  hand. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  Vatican  manuscript 
goes,  if  not  farther,  at  least  as  far  back  in  date  as  the 
Council  of  Nice,  and  is  the  oldest  and  most  valuable 
of  extant  monuments  of  sacred  antiquity.  It  may  have 
been  transcribed  directly  from  some  Egyptian  papyrus,  or 
through  the  medium  of  only  one  intervening  prototype. 
Perhaps  it  was  a  single  copy  saved  from  the  fate  of  many 
surrendered  to  be  burned  by  the  class  of  Christian  rene- 
gades called  traditores^  who  averted  the  martyr's  death 
in  the  great  Diocletian  persecution  by  giving  up  the 
sacred  books  of  their  religion  to  their  enemies.  For 
this  pagan  emperor  endeavoured  not  only  to  deprive  the 
Christian  Church  of  its  teachers,  like  his  predecessors, 
but  also  to  destroy  the  sacred  writings  upon  which  the 
faith  of  the  Church  was  founded,  and  whose  character 
and  claims  were  beginning  at  this  time  to  be  generally 
recognised.  The  Alexandrine  Codex — which  is  placed 
first  on  the  list  of  uncial  manuscripts,  and  therefore  dis- 
tinguished by  the  letter  A — belongs  undoubtedly  to  a 
more  recent  time.  It  is  said  by  tradition  to  have  been 
written  by  a  noble  Egyptian  martyr  named  Thecla  about 
the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century,  and  was  sent  as  a 
present  to  Charles  I.  by  Cyrillus  Lucaris,  patriarch  of 
Constantinople,  who  brought  it  from  Alexandria.  It  is 
now  one  of  the  greatest  treasures  of  the  British  Museum. 


XI 


THE  VATICAN  CODEX 


371 


The  voice  of  tradition  is  confirmed  by  internal  evidence, 
for  it  has  only  two  columns  in  a  page,  while  capital 
letters  of  different  sizes  abound,  and  vermilion  is  fre- 
quently introduced — all  marks  of  the  period  indicated. 

How  or  when  the  Codex  Vaticanus  was  brought  to 
the  Vatican  Library  is  a  matter  that  is  altogether  involved 
in  obscurity.      It  probably  formed  part  of  the  library  in 
the  Lateran  Palace,  which  goes  nearly  as  far  back  as  the 
time  of  Constantine,  and  was  transferred  along  with  the 
other  contents  of  that  library  to  the  Vatican  in  1450  by 
Pope   Nicholas  V.     We  first  hear  of  it  distinctly  in  a 
letter  written  to  Erasmus  in  1533  by  Sepulveda;  although 
there  is  a  somewhat  obscure  reference  to  it  a  few  years 
earlier   in   the   correspondence   of  the  Papal   librarian 
Bombasius   with   Erasmus.      A   Roman   edition  of   the 
Septuagint  portion  based  upon  the  Vatican  MS.  appeared 
in   1587.      After  that  period  to   1780   it   was    several 
times  collated ;  among  others,   by  Bartolocci,  the  Vati- 
can librarian  \  by  Bentley,  who  employed  for  the  purpose 
the  Abbate  Mico  and  Rulotta ;  and  by  Birch  of  Copen- 
hagen, who  travelled  under  the  auspices  of  the  King  of 
Denmark.     Along  with  many  of  the  best  sculptures  and 
most  valuable  art-treasures  of  the  Vatican,  the  precious 
Codex  was  taken  to  Paris  in  1 8 1  o  by  order  of  Napoleon 
Buonaparte,  that  unscrupulous  robber  of  foreign  palaces 
and  churches  for  the  aggrandisement  of  his  own  capital ; 
and  while  there  it  was  carefully  examined  by  the  cele- 
brated critic,  J.  L.  Hug,  who  was  the  first  to  determine, 
from  the  nature  of  its  materials  and  its  internal  evidence, 
its  very  great  antiquity.     When  it  was  restored,  along  with 
the  other  spoils  of  the  great  Roman  Palace,  it  was  sealed 
up  by  its  jealous  possessors,  and  could  no  longer  be 
consulted  for  critical  purposes.     In   1843  Tischendorf 
could  only  see  it  for  two  days  of  three  hours  each. 
Tregelles,  who  went  to  Rome  in   1845  for  the  special 
purpose    of    consulting    the    Codex,    provided   with    a 
strongly -recommendatory    letter    of    introduction    from 
Cardinal  Wiseman,   was  only  permitted  to   see  it,  but 


372 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


not  to  transcribe  any  of  its  readings.  His  pockets,  as 
he  himself  tells  us,  were  searched,  and  his  pen,  ink,  and 
paper  taken  away,  before  he  was  allowed  to  open  it; 
and  if  he  looked  at  a  passage  too  long  the  manuscript 
was  snatched  rudely  from  his  hands  by  the  two  prelates 
in  watchful  attendance.  When  Dean  Alford,  in  1861, 
made  use  of  the  manuscript  for  four  days,  his  labours 
of  collation  were  carried  on  in  the  face  of  much  opposi- 
tion from  the  librarian,  who  insisted  that  the  order  of 
Antonelli  permitted  him  only  to  see  the  manuscript,  but 
not  to  verify  passages  in  it. 

The  reason  alleged  to  the  scholars  of  Europe  for  this 
childish  jealousy  was  that  the  authorities  of  the  Vatican 
were  themselves  preparing  to  publish  a  thorough  colla- 
tion, and  they  did  not  wish  the  glory  of  the  achievement 
to  pass  away  from  Rome.  Cardinal  Mai  began,  indeed, 
to  prepare  an  edition  for  publication  in  1828;  but  it 
did  not  appear  till  1857,  three  years  after  the  cardinal's 
death,  under  the  learned  editorship  of  Vercellone. 
There  was  a  rumour  copied  into  the  Edinburgh  Review 
from  Sir  Charles  Lyell's  work  on  the  United  States,  that 
the  cardinal  was  prevented  from  publishing  his  work  by 
Pope  Gregory  XVI.,  on  account  of  its  variations  from 
the  Vulgate,  which  had  been  solemnly  sanctioned  by 
the  decrees  of  the  Council  of  Trent  and  the  Church's 
claims  to  infallibility.  It  was  further  asserted  that  he 
finally  obtained  permission  to  publish  his  edition  on 
condition  that  he  inserted  within  brackets  the  celebrated 
text  I  John  v.  7,  which  was  wanting  in  the  manuscript. 
Whether  this  was  true  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  what  the 
learned  cardinal  gave  to  the  world  was  more  an  edition, 
a  critical  recension  of  the  text,  than  a  faithful  transcript 
of  the  Vatican  Codex.  Although  he  had  the  MS.  with 
him  at  his  residence  in  the  Palazzo  Altieri — a  circum- 
stance which  gave  rise  to  the  belief  at  the  time  that  it 
had  disappeared  during  the  French  occupation  of  Rome 
— he  could  only  bestow  upon  the  arduous  task  the  scanty 
leisure  available  from  more  engrossing  duties.    The  work 


XI 


THE  VATICAN  CODEX 


173 


was  therefore  so  imperfectly  done  that  the  cardinal  himself 
was  reluctant  to  publish  it ;  and  the  learned  and  honest 
Barnabite  under  whose  editorial  auspices  it  appeared 
was  obliged  to  append  a  formidable  list  of  errata,  and 
to  make  a  gentle  apology  in  his  preface  for  his  friend's 
inaccuracies.  But,  with  all  its  defects,  the  five  quarto 
volumes  of  the  cardinal's  reprint  has  added  largely  to  our 
critical  knowledge  of  the  Codex ;  and  it  derives  a  special 
interest  from  the  circumstance  that  it  was  the  first  time 
the  Greek  Scriptures  had  ever  been  published  in  Rome. 
Since  then  Tischendorf,  during  his  second  visit  to 
the  Eternal  City,  had  an  audience  of  Pope  Pius  IX., 
and  offered  to  bring  out  at  his  own  expense  an  edi- 
tion of  the  Vatican  Codex  similar  to  that  which  he  had 
prepared,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Russian  emperor, 
of  the  Sinaitic  Codex.  This  request  the  Pope  refused, 
under  the  old  pretext  that  he  wished  to  publish  such  an 
edition  himself.  Tischendorf,  however,  was  allowed  to 
use  the  manuscript  more  freely  than  on  the  former 
occasion ;  though  several  times  it  was  taken  away  from 
him,  and  his  labours  interrupted,  because  of  alleged 
breaches  of  faith  on  his  part.  The  result  of  this  unusual 
privilege  was  that  the  great  Textuary  has  issued  by  far 
the  most  accurate  and  satisfactory  edition  which  we 
possess  at  present.  Pius  IX.  carried  out  his  intention 
of  publishing  a  Roman  edition  in  five  volumes,  printed 
by  the  famous  press  of  the  Propaganda.  The  New 
Testament  instalment  appeared  under  the  editorship  of 
Vercellone  and  Cozza  in  1868;  but  Vercellone  dying 
soon  after,  the  subsequent  volumes  were  prepared  under 
less  able  supervision.  The  famous  manuscript  therefore 
labours  under  the  disadvantage  of  uncertainty,  there 
being  no  guarantee  that  any  reading  is  really  that  of 
the  original.  And  while  the  Alexandrine  Codex  has 
been  reproduced  by  photography,  and  the  Sinaitic  Codex 
has  been  faithfully  published,  the  exact  palaeography,  or 
the  genuine  text  as  it  stands,  of  the  Vatican  Codex  is 
still  a  desideratum  among  scholars. 


374 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


The  total  disappearance  of  all  manuscripts  previous 
to  the  Vatican  Codex  is  a  matter  of  surprise,  for  it  has 
been  calculated  on  sufficient  evidence  that  many- 
thousands  of  copies  of  the  Gospels  were  circulated 
among  Christians  at  the  end  of  the  second  century. 
The  loss  may  be  attributed  to  the  fact  that  the  older 
manuscripts  were  written  on  less  enduring  materials. 
Previous  to  the  second  century  the  principal  writing 
material  was  paper  made  of  papyrus,  a  plant  found 
at  one  time  not  only  in  Egypt,  but  also  in  the  north  of 
Palestine  and  various  parts  of  southern  Italy  and  Sicily, 
although  now  almost  extirpated ;  and  we  have  reason  to 
believe,  from  one  or  two  incidental  notices  in  St.  John's 
writings,  that  it  was  the  material  employed  by  the  apostles 
themselves.  This  papyrus  paper  was  of  a  very  perishable 
nature,  and  manuscripts  written  on  it,  apart  from  the 
wear  and  tear  of  continual  use,  would  succumb  to  the 
process  of  decay  in  a  comparatively  short  period.  We 
are  indebted  for  the  preservation  of  all  the  papyrus 
manuscripts  that  have  come  down  to  us  from  a  remote 
antiquity  to  the  fact  of  their  having  been  kept  in  excep- 
tionally favourable  circumstances,  as  in  the  hermetically- 
sealed  interiors  of  Egyptian  tombs.  Those  exposed  to 
the  air  have  all  disappeared  ages  ago.  In  the  second 
century  parchment  was  brought  into  common  use  as  a 
writing  material,  and  papyrus  paper  gradually  fell  into 
disuse.  And  with  the  change  of  material  the  shape  of 
manuscripts  was  changed;  the  ancient  form  of  the  papyrus- 
roll  giving  place,  in  manuscripts  written  on  parchment, 
to  the  form  of  books  with  leaves.  How  we  should  value 
the  original  rolls  which  contained  the  handwriting  of  the 
evangelists  and  apostles  !  With  what  profound  interest 
should  we  gaze  upon  the  signature  and  salutation  of  St 
Paul  affixed  to  the  Epistles  which  he  dictated  to  an 
amanuensis  on  account  of  his  defective  eyesight !  How 
we  should  prize  the  apostolic  autograph  of  the  Epistle 
to  the  Galatians,  of  which  the  writer  says,  "Ye  see  how 
large  a  letter  I  have  written  unto  you  with  mine  own  hand." 


XI 


THE  VATICAN  CODEX 


375 


What  a  thrill  would  pass  through  us  at  the  sight  of  those 
two  pastoral  Epistles,  at  the  close  of  which  St.  John 
says, — "  I  had  many  things  to  write,  but  I  will  not  with 
pen  and  ink  write  unto  thee  "  !  Our  legitimate  venera- 
tion, however,  would  be  apt  to  pass  over  into  idolatrous 
superstition.  We  should  worship  such  precious  docu- 
ments as  the  early  Christians  worshipped  the  relics  of  the 
saints.  It  was,  therefore,  a  wise  providential  arrange- 
ment that  such  a  temptation  should  have  been  taken 
out  of  the  way.  All  the  original  manuscripts  of  the 
sacred  writings  disappeared,  on  account  of  the  fragile 
character  of  their  materials,  probably  in  a  few  years  after 
the  death  of  the  writers,  no  special  care  having  been 
taken  to  preserve  them;  and,  as  Dr.  Westcott  has 
remarked,  not  a  single  authentic  appeal  is  made  to  them 
in  the  religious  disputes  regarding  the  exact  words  of 
certain  passages  in  the  Gospels  and  Epistles  in  the 
writings  of  the  second  century. 

But  though  the  Vatican  Codex  is  the  oldest  manu- 
script of  the  New  Testament  in  existence,  it  does  not 
follow  from  that  circumstance  that  it  is  the  most  reliable. 
Widely  different  views  of  its  critical  value  are  enter- 
tained by  scholars.  By  some  it  has  been  accepted  as 
the  most  authoritative  of  all  versions,  while  others  have 
regarded  it  as  one  of  the  most  corrupt  and  imperfect 
Indeed  the  conjecture  has  been  hazarded  that  the  very 
circumstance  of  its  continued  preservation  during  so 
many  centuries  is  a  proof  that  it  was  an  unreliable  copy 
long  laid  aside,  and  therefore  exempt  from  the  wear  and 
tear  under  which  genuine  copies  of  the  same  date  have 
long  ago  perished.  These  extreme  views,  however,  are 
unjust.  While  it  is  not  free  from  many  gross  inaccur- 
acies and  faults,  it  presents  upon  the  whole  a  very  fair 
idea  of  the  Greek  Vulgate  of  the  early  Church,  and  is 
worthy  of  as  much  respect  at  least  as  any  single  docu- 
ment in  existence.  The  chief  peculiarity  of  the  Codex 
is  the  large  number  of  important  omissions  in  it ;  so  that, 
as  Dr.  Dobbin  says,  it  presents  an  abbreviated  text  of 


376 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


the  New  Testament.      A  few  of  these  omissions  were 
wilfully  made,  while  the  large  majority  were  no  doubt 
caused  by  the  carelessness  of  the  writer  in  transcribing 
from  the  copy  before  him;  for  there  are  several  instances 
of  his  having  written  the  same  words  and  clauses  twice 
over.      On  the  supposition   of  the   MS.   being  one  of 
the  fifty  prepared  at  Constantine's  order,   the   extreme 
haste  with  which  such  a  task  would  be  executed  would 
account  for  the  multitude  of  clerical  errors.      Besides 
the  last  verses  of  the  Gospel  of  St.   Mark  already  al- 
luded to,  and  no  less  than  three  hundred  and  sixty-four 
other  omissions  in  the  same  Gospel  of  greater  or  less 
moment,  the  doxology  at  the  end  of  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
in  Matthew  vi.   13,  is  wanting;  as  also  the  description 
of  the  agony  of  the  Saviour  and  the  help  of  the  angel  in 
Luke  xxii.  43,  44  ;  the  important  clause,  '*  For  he  was 
before  me,"  in  John  i.  27  ;  the  miraculous  troubhng  of 
the  water  in  the  Pool  of  Bethesda  in  John  v.  3,  4 ;  the 
narrative  of  the  adulterous  woman  in  John  vii.  53  to  viii. 
11;  the  question  of  Philip  and  the  answer  of  the  Ethio- 
pian eunuch  in  Acts  viii.  37;  the  significant  and  affecting 
incidents  in  Paul's  conversion  mentioned  in  Acts  ix.  5,  6  ; 
and  the  well-known  disputed  text  of  the  Three  witnesses 
in  Heaven^  in   i   John  v.    7.     These  omitted  passages, 
which,  from  internal  evidence,  apart  from  the  external 
testimony  of  the  largest  number  of  critical  documents, 
we  must  acknowledge  to  be  genuine,  are  the  most  serious 
of  the  lacunae,  amounting  altogether  to  the  extraordinary 
number    of  two   thousand    four   hundred   and    fifty-six. 
They  give  the  document  a  very  distinctive  character; 
while  even  the  less  striking  disappearances  from  the  text, 
which   can   only  be  apprehended  on  a  close  collation, 
more  or  less  affect   the  sense.      German    critics  have 
stamped  several  of  these  omissions  with  their  approba- 
tion, especially  those  referring  to  the  supernatural,  owing 
to    their    well-known    repugnance    to    the    miraculous 
element  in  Scripture. 

There   are  other   peculiarities  of  the  Codex  which 


XI 


THE  VATICAN  CODEX 


377 


greatly  interested  me ;  but  the  discussion  of  them  would 
require  me  to  go  too  much  into  critical  details.  I  must 
mention,  however,  the  occasional  use  in  the  manuscript 
of  a  Latinised  orthography.  The  name  of  Silvanus,  for 
instance,  mentioned  in  i  Peter  v.  12,  is  rendered  into 
the  Latinised  Greek  Siibafwu,  instead  of  Silouanou,  the 
common  Greek  form;  and  in  2  Peter  iii.  10,  instead  of 
the  last  word  of  the  verse,  katakaesetai,  "  shall  be  burned 
up,"  occurs  the  singular  word  eurethesetai, — which 
means,  "  shall  be  found."  The  Syriac  and  one  Egyptian 
version  have  the  reading  ''shall  not  be  found";  and 
either  the  "  not "  was  accidentally  omitted  when  the 
Vatican  Codex  was  copied  from  an  earlier  exemplar  that 
had  that  reading,  or  the  writer  had  some  confused  idea 
of  the  Latin  word  urerefitur,  "  shall  be  burnt  up,"  in  his 
mind,  and  adopted  the  word  eurethesetai  from  its 
resemblance  to  it — as  a  Latin  root  with  a  Greek  inflec- 
tion. Some  curious  examples  of  Latin  forms  and  con- 
structions might  be  given  ;  and  this  circumstance  has  led 
to  the  hypothesis  that  the  origin  of  the  Vatican  manu- 
script might,  after  all,  have  been  Italian,  and  not  Alexan- 
drian as  is  commonly  supposed.  The  Codex  has  also  been 
accused  of  theological  bias;  for  in  John  i.  18,  "only 
begotten  God  "  is  substituted  for  "  only  begotten  Son." 
This  is  considered  by  some  to  be  a  reference  to  the 
polemics  of  the  fourth  century  regarding  the  Arian 
doctrines;  although  this  supposition  would  make  it  of 
later  date.  The  order  of  the  books  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment in  the  Codex  is  different  from  that  with  which  we 
are  familiar.  The  Catholic  Epistles  from  James  to 
Jude  follow  the  Acts,  according  to  the  order  of  the 
ancient  Greek  Church  ;  then  come  the  Pauline  Epistles  ; 
and  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  comes  in  between  the 
Second  Epistle  to  the  Thessalonians  and  First  Timothy. 
Its  sections,  however,  are  numbered  as  if  it  had  originally 
been  placed  between  the  Epistles  to  the  Galatians  and 
Ephesians;  thus  showing  that  this  was  the  arrangement  in 
the  older  document  from  which  the  Codex  was  copied.  One 


378 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


of  the  Moscow  manuscripts,  it  may  be  mentioned  in  con- 
nection with  this  novelty  in  location,  places  the  Epistle  to 
the  Hebrews  in  a  position  as  abnormal  as  in  the  Vatican 
manuscript — namely,  before  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans. 
In  the  formation  of  the  Received  Text  of  our  New 
Testament,  the  Vatican  manuscript  was  not  employed. 
The  basis  of  the  early  printed  editions — the  Elzevir  and 
those  of  Robert  Stephens  the  celebrated  Parisian 
printer — was  the  Greek  New  Testament  of  Erasmus, 
published  in  1 5 1 6,  compiled  with  the  aid  of  such  manu- 
scripts as  he  found  at  Basle,  and  the  Complutensian 
Polyglot — so  called  after  Complutum,  the  modern  Alcala, 
in  Spain,  where  it  was  printed  in  1522,  under  the  patron- 
age of  Cardinal  Ximenes,  whose  text  was  said  to  have 
been  formed  from  manuscripts  sent  from  the  Papal 
Library  at  Rome — the  Vatican  Codex  certainly  not  being 
among  the  number,  as  abundantly  appears  from  internal 
evidence.  But  though  the  Vatican  manuscript  was  not 
employed  in  the  construction  of  our  Authorised  Version, 
it  has  recently  been  used  as  the  chief  authority  by  the 
New  Testament  Revisers.  Drs.  Westcott  and  Hort 
'^ave  built  up  their  Greek  text  with  special  deferential 
icgard  to  it;  and  this  exclusive  devotion  has  been 
severely  condemned  by  several  critics,  such  as  Dean 
Burgon,  who  regard  it  as  an  endeavour  to  balance  a 
pyramid  upon  its  apex.  But  apart  from  the  contra- 
dictory views  of  such  textuaries,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  Vatican  Codex  has  been  of  the  greatest  service 
in  these  later  days  in  correcting  the  Authorised  Version, 
and  helping  to  restore  the  sacred  text  as  nearly  as 
possible  to  the  purity  of  the  original  autographs.  And 
it  has  added  its  most  valuable  testimony  to  that  of  the 
many  other  ancient  manuscripts  of  the  Sacred  Writings 
in  existence,  that,  notwithstanding  unimportant  variations 
of  readings  naturally  caused  by  the  great  multiplication 
of  copies,  the  sacred  text  from  the  time  when  it  first 
appeared  to  the  present  has  been  preserved  substantially 
uncorrupt ;  so  that  we  have  the  same  divine  truth  pre- 


XI 


THE  VATICAN  CODEX 


379 


sented  to  us  that  was  presented  to  the  Christians  of  the 
ages  immediately  succeeding  the  time  of  the  apostles. 

With  all  these  remarkable  associations  and  points  of 
interest  connected  with  the  Vatican  manuscript,  it  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at  that  I  should  gaze  upon  it  with  a 
species  of  veneration.  It  transported  me  in  imagination 
to  a  period  when  the  canon  of  the  New  Testament  was 
as  yet  in  a  state  of  flux.  The  evidence  of  the  I\Iura- 
torian  fragment  in  the  Ambrosian  Library  at  Milan  shows 
to  us  that  the  separate  books  of  the  New  Testament  had 
indeed  been  collected  into  one ;  and  a  belief  in  their 
Divine  inspiration  equally  with  the  Old  Testament 
Scriptures  had  begun  to  be  entertained.  But  there  was 
as  yet  no  prevailing  unanimity  of  opinion  as  to  what  books 
should  be  admitted  into  the  Canon  and  what  books 
should  be  excluded.  No  formal  attempt  had  as  yet 
been  made  to  reconcile  conflicting  testimonies ;  or,  if 
made,  the  recensions  undertaken  did  not  meet  with 
general  acceptance.  Even  a  good  many  years  afterwards, 
as  late  as  at  the  Council  of  Laodicea  in  361,  doubts 
were  still  expressed  as  to  the  claims  of  the  Apocalypse 
to  canonicity.  This  book  was  not  originally  included 
in  the  Vatican  Codex ;  for  the  manuscript  copy  of  it 
bound  up  in  the  volume  is  of  much  later  date,  and  in  a 
different  handwriting.  And  this  hesitation  regarding 
the  full  recognition  of  certain  books,  proves  the  great 
care  that  was  exercised,  and  the  deep  sense  of  responsi- 
bility that  was  felt,  in  the  collection  of  the  other  books. 
The  formation  of  the  sacred  Canon  was  done  gradually 
and  imperceptibly ;  but  the  result  to  every  thoughtful 
mind  is  more  suggestive  of  the  inspiration  of  that  Spirit 
whose  operation  is  like  the  wind  that  bloweth  where  it 
listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof,  but  canst  not 
tell  whence  it  cometh  and  whither  it  goeth — than  if  the 
process  had  been  more  formal  and  conspicuous. 


L. 


CHAPTER  XII 


ST.  PAUL  AT  PUTEOLI 


The  Gospel  first  came  to  Europe  in  circumstances 
similar  to  those  in  which  it  came  into  human  history. 
Tlirough  poverty,  shame,  and  suffering — througli  the 
manger,  the  cross,  and  the  sepulchre — did  our  Saviour 
accompHsh  the  salvation  of  the  world  ;  through  stripes 
and  imprisonment,  through  the  gloom  of  the  inner 
dungeon  and  the  pain  and  shame  of  the  stocks,  did 
Paul  and  Silas  declare  at  Philippi  the  glad  tidings  of 
salvation.  Out  of  the  midnight  darkness  which  enveloped 
the  apostles  of  the  Cross,  as  they  sang  in  the  prison, 
came  the  marvellous  light  that  was  destined  to  illumine 
all  Europe.  Out  of  the  stocks  which  held  fast  the  feet 
that  came  to  the  shores  of  the  West  shod  with  the 
preparation  of  the  gospel  of  peace,  to  proclaim  deliver- 
ance to  the  captives,  sprang  that  glorious  liberty  which 
has  broken  every  fetter  that  bound  the  bodies  and  souls 
of  men  throughout  Christendom.  After  the  earthquake 
that  shook  the  prison  walls  and  released  the  prisoners 
came  the  still,  small  voice  of  power,  which  overthrew  the 
tyrannies  and  superstitions  of  ages,  and  remade  society 
from  its  very  foundations. 

Very  similar  were  the  circumstances  in  which  the 
apostle  landed  at  the  quay  of  Puteoli.  A  weary,  worn- 
out  prisoner,  accused  by  his  own  countrj^men,  on  his  way 
to  be  judged  at  the  tribunal  of  the  Roman  emperor, 
associated  with  a  troop  of  malefactors,  St.  Paul  disem- 


CHAP.  XII 


ST.  PAUL  AT  PUTEOLI 


381 


barked,  on  the  3d  of  May  of  the  year  59,  from  the  ship 
Castor  and  Pollux,  after  having  gone  through  storm  and 
shipwreck,  and  first  touched  the  shore  of  the  wonderful 
land  destined  afterwards  to  be  the  scene  of  the  mightiest 
triumphs  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  most  enlightened  centre  for 
its  diffusion  throughout  the  world.  Like  the  birth  of  Rome 
itself,  whose  obscure  foundation,  according  to  the  beautiful 
myth,  was  laid  by  the  outcast  son  of  a  Vestal  Virgin,  the 
kingdom  of  the  despised  virgin-born  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
that  cometh  not  with  observation,  stole  unawares,  amid 
the  meanest  circumstances,  into  the  very  heart  of  the 
Roman  world.  Momentous  events  were  taking  place  at 
the  time  throughout  the  Roman  Empire,  attracting  all 
eyes,  and  engaging  the  attention  of  all  minds ;  but  the 
unnoticed  landing  at  Puteoli  of  the  humble  Jewish 
prisoner,  judging  by  its  marvellous  results,  was  by  far 
the  most  important.  It  marked  a  new  era  in  the  history 
of  the  world.  And  there  was  something  significant  in 
the  coincidence  that  St.  Paul  should  have  come  to  the 
Italian  shore  in  the  ship  Castor  and  Pollux,  the  names 
not  merely  of  the  patrons  of  sailors,  but  also  of  the 
saviours  of  Rome.  The  mighty  empire  which  human 
tyranny  had  established  has  crumbled  to  pieces,  and  we 
walk  to-day  amid  its  ruins  ;  but  the  kingdom  of  peace  and 
righteousness  which  Paul  came  to  inaugurate  has  spread 
from  that  coign  of  vantage  over  all  the  earth,  and  in  a 
world  of  death  and  change  has  impressed  upon  the 
minds  of  men  with  a  new  force  the  idea  of  the  eternal 
and  the  unchangeable. 

Earth  holds  no  fairer  scene  than  that  which  met  the 
apostle's  gaze  as  he  entered  the  bay  of  Puteoli.  "See 
Naples,  and  die,"  is  the  cuckoo  cry  of  the  modern  tourist 
who  visits  this  enchanted  region ;  and  such  a  vision  is 
indeed  worthy  to  be  the  last  imprinted  upon  a  human 
retina.  It  is  called  by  the  Italians  themselves  "  Un  pezzo 
di  cielo  caduto  in  terra,"  a  piece  of  heaven  fallen  upon 
earth.  Shores  that  curve  in  every  line  of  beauty,  holding 
out  arm-like  promontories,  into  whose  embrace  the  tide- 


382 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


XII 


ST.  PAUL  AT  PUTEOLI 


383 


less  sea  runs  up ;  mountain-ranges  whose  tops  in  winter 
are  covered  with  snow,  and  whose  sides  are  draped  with 
the  luxuriant  vegetation  of  the  South ;  a  large  city  rising 
in  a  series  of  semicircular  terraces  from  the  deep  azure 
of  the  sea  to  the  deep  azure  of  the  mountains,  whose 
eastern  architecture  flushes  to  a  vivid  rosy  hue  in  the 
afternoon  light  Hke  some  fabled  city  of  the  poets ;  and 
dominating  the  glorious  horizon  the  double  peak  of 
Vesuvius  forming  the  centre  in  which  all  the  features 
of  landscape  loveliness  are  focussed — crowned  by  its 
pillar  of  cloud  by  day  and  of  fire  by  night.  Such  is  the 
picture  upon  which  travellers  crowd  from  the  ends  of  the 
earth  to  gaze. 

Nor  was  the  view  different  in  its  most  important 
elements  in  the  days  of  the  apostle.  The  same  great 
forms  of  the  landscape  met  the  eye ;  and  the  same  magic 
play  of  light  and  colour,  the  same  jewel-points  flashing 
in  the  waters,  the  same  gleams  of  purple  and  crimson 
wandering  over  town,  and  vineyard,  and  wood,  transfigured 
the  scene  then,  which  gives  it  more  than  half  its  loveli- 
ness now.  But  its  human  elements  were  different. 
Swarming  with  life  as  are  these  shores  at  the  present 
day,  they  were  even  more  populous  then.  Where  we 
now  wander  through  picturesque  ruins  and  silent  sohtudes, 
prosperous  towns  and  villages  stood  ;  and  temples,  palaces, 
and  summer  houses  of  patrician  magnificence  crowded 
upon  each  other  to  such  an  extent  that  the  sea  itself  was 
invaded,  and  an  older  Venice  rose  from  the  waters  along 
the  curves  of  its  bays.  The  shores  of  Baiae  were  the  very 
centre  of  Roman  splendour.  The  emperor  and  his  court 
spent  a  large  part  of  the  year  there ;  and  noble  families, 
that  elsewhere  had  domains  miles  in  extent,  were  there 
satisfied  with  the  smallest  space  upon  which  they  could 
build  a  house  and  plant  a  garden.  Pompeii  and  Hercu- 
laneum,  in  all  their  reckless  gaiety,  lay,  unconscious  of 
danger,  at  the  foot  of  Vesuvius,  then  a  grassy  mountain 
wooded  to  the  summit  with  oak  and  chestnut,  and  known 
from  time  immemorial  as  a  field  of  pasture  for  flocks  and 


herds.  The  Bay  of  Misenum,  now  so  solitary  that  the 
scream  of  the  sea-fowl  is  almost  the  only  sound  that 
breaks  the  stillness,  was  crowded  with  the  vessels  of  the 
Roman  fleet,  commanded  by  Pliny ;  and  its  waters  were 
alive  with  the  pleasure-boats  of  the  patrician  youths,  fill- 
ing the  air  with  the  music  of  their  laughter  and  song. 
Puteoli,  or,  as  it  is  now  called,  Pozzuoli,  a  dull  and 
stagnant  fourth-rate  town,  was  then  the  Liverpool  of  Italy, 
carrying  on  an  immense  trade  in  corn  between  Egypt 
and  the  western  provinces  of  the  Roman  Empire.  It 
rivalled  Delos  in  magnificence,  and  was  called  the  Little 
Rome.  It  had  a  splendid  forum  and  harbour,  and  was 
guarded  by  fortifications  which  resisted  the  repeated 
attacks  of  Hannibal.  In  this  region  almost  every  famous 
Roman  of  the  later  days  of  the  Republic  and  the  earlier 
days  of  the  Empire  had  his  sea-side  villa  to  which  he 
retired  from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the  Imperial  City. 
It  was  the  Brighton  or  more  properly  the  Bath  of  Rome  ; 
for  though  it  was  frequented  during  the  burning  heats  of 
summer  for  the  sake  of  its  comparative  coolness,  it  was 
principally  chosen  as  a  winter  retreat  to  escape  from  the 
frosts  and  snows  of  the  north.  Lucullus  carried  here  the 
gorgeous  luxury  and  extravagance  of  his  city  life  ;  here 
Augustus  and  Hadrian  had  their  palaces  erected  on 
vast  piers  thrown  out  into  the  sea,  whose  waters  still 
murmur  over  their  remains ;  while  Cicero  built  here  his 
Piiteolaiiuni^  delightfully  situated  on  the  coast,  and  sur- 
rounded by  a  shady  grove,  which  he  called  his  Academy, 
in  imitation  of  Plato,  and  where  he  composed  his 
"  Academia  "  and  "  De  Fato."  Hardly  an  inch  of  the 
soil  but  is  full  of  fragments  of  mosaic  pavements.  The 
common  stones  of  the  road  are  often  rich  marbles,  that 
formed  part  of  imperial  structures  ;  and  the  very  dust  on 
which  you  tread,  if  analysed,  would  be  found  to  be  a 
powder  of  gems  and  precious  stones. 

But  alas  !  in  some  of  the  fairest  spots  of  earth  man 
has  been  vilest ;  and  like  the  ancient  Cities  of  the  Plain, 
which  stood  in  a  region  of  Edenic  loveliness,  the  shores 


384 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


of  the  Bay  of  Naples  were  inhabited  by  a  race  corrupted 
with  the  worst  vices  of  Roman  civilisation.     Some  of  the 
most  dreadful  crimes  that  have  disgraced  humanity  were 
committed  on  that  radiant  shore.     Yonder  sleeps  in  the 
azure  distance  the  enchanted  isle  of  Capri,  haunted  for 
ever  by  dreadful  memories  of  the  unnameable  atrocities 
with  which  the  Emperor  Tiberius  had  stained  its  peaceful 
bowers.     On  the  neighbouring  heights  of  Posilipo  are 
traces  of  the  villa  of  Vedius,  and  of  the  celebrated  fish- 
ponds where  he  fed  his  7fiurence  with  the  flesh  of  his  dis- 
obedient slaves.     On  the  shore  of  Puteoli  the  apostle 
might  have  seen  the  remains  of  one  of  the  maddest  freaks 
of  imperial  folly — the  floating-bridge  of  Caligula,  stretch- 
ing across  the  bay  for  nearly  three  miles,  and  decorated 
with  the  finest  mosaic  pavements  and  sculpture.    Over  this 
useless  bridge  the  insane  emperor  drove  in  the  chariot  and 
armour  of  Alexander  the  Great,  to  celebrate  his  triumph 
over  the  Parthians  ;  and  from  it,  on  his  return,  he  ordered 
the  crowd  of  inoffensive  spectators  to  be  hurled  into  the 
sea.     By  withdrawing  for  the  construction  of  this  bridge 
the  ships  employed  in  the  harbour,  the  importation  of 
corn  was  put  a  stop  to,  and  a  grievous  famine,  felt  even 
in  Rome,  was  the  result.     And  near  at  hand  was  Bauli, 
where  Nero — the  very  Caesar  to  whom  it  is  startling  to 
remember  that  St.  Paul  appealed,  and  before  whom  he 
was  going  to  be  judged, — only  two  years  before  attempted 
the  murder  of  his  own  mother,  Agrippina,  which  failed  be- 
cause of  her  discovery  of  the  plot,  but  which  was  most 
ruthlessly  accomplished  very  soon  afterwards.     Here  too 
Marcellus  was  poisoned  by  Livia,   that  Tiberius  might 
ascend  the  throne  of  Augustus ;  and  Domitian  by  Nero, 
that   he   might    enjoy  the  wealth    of  his  aunt.     Here 
Hadrian,   a   few   days   before    his   own   miserable   end, 
compelled  his  beautiful  and  accomplished  wife,  Sabina, 
to  put  herself  to  death,  that  she  might  not  survive  him 
in  such  a  wretched  world.      And  in  the  cities  at  the  foot 
of  Vesuvius  have  been  revealed  to  us,  after  nature  had 
kindly  hidden  them  for  eighteen  centuries,  tokens  of  a 


XII 


ST.  PAUL  AT  PUTEOLI 


385 


depravity  so  utter,  that  we  cannot  help  looking  upon  the 
fiery  deluge  from  the  mountain,  that  soon  after  St.  Paul's 
visit  swept  them  out  of  existence,  as  a  Divine  judgment 
like  that  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrha.     And  darker  even 
than  these  monstrosities  of  wickedness  was  the  divine 
worship  paid  on  these  shores  to  the  Roman  emperors. 
It  was  a  pitiable  spectacle  when  the  sailors  of  an  Alex- 
andrian ship,  coming  into  the  harbour  of  Puteoli,  gave 
thanks  for  their  prosperous  voyage  to  the  dying  Augustus, 
whom  they  met  cruising  on  the  waters  vainly  in  search  of 
health,  and  offered  him  divine  honours,  which  the  gratified 
emperor  accepted,  and  rcAvarded  with  gifts.      But  what 
shall  we  think  of  the  worship  of  the  god  Caligula  and  the 
god  Nero  ?     Surely  a  people  who  could  raise  altars  and 
offer  sacrifices  to  such  unmitigated  monsters  must  have 
lost  the  very  conception  of  religion.     Not  only  virtue,  but 
the  very  belief  in  any  source  of  virtue,  must  have  been 
utterly  extirpated   in   them.     When   Herod   spoke,  the 
people  said  it  was  the  voice  of  God  ;  and  he  was  smitten 
with  worms  because  he  gave  not  God  the  glory.     And 
surely  the  superhuman  wickedness  of  the  Caesars  may  be 
regarded  as  a  punishment,  equally  significant,  of  the  fear- 
ful blasphemy  of  the  worshipped  and  the  worshippers. 

No  wonder  that  the  shores  of  Baiae  now  present  a 
picture  of  the  saddest  desolation.    Where  man  sins,  there 
man  suffers.     The  relation  between  human  crime  and 
the  barren  wilderness  is  still  as  inflexibly  maintained  as 
at  the  first.     Until  all  recollection  of  the  iniquities  of 
the  place  has  passed  away  it  is  fitting  that  these  silent 
shores  should   remain  the   desert   that  they   are.       We 
should  not  wish  the  old  voluptuous  magnificence  revived ; 
and  these  myrtle  bowers  can  never  more  regain  the  charm 
of  virgin  solitudes  untainted  by  man.    Italy,  like  Palestine, 
has  thus  an  accursed  spot  in  its  fairest  region — a  visible 
monument  to  all  ages,  of  the  great  truth  that  the  tidal 
wave  of  retribution  will  inevitably  overwhelm  every  nation 
that  forgets  the  eternal  distinctions  of  right  and  wrong. 
St  Paul  was  a  man  of  keen  sensibilities  and  strong 

2  c 


3S6 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


imagination 


He  must  therefore  at  Puteoli  have  been 
deeply  impressed  at  once  with  the  loveHness  of  nature 
and  the  wickedness  of  man.  The  contrast  would  present 
itself  to  him  in  a  very  painful  manner.  As  at  Athens — 
where  his  spirit  was  moved  within  him  w^hen  he  saw  the 
city  wholly  given  up  to  idolatry — so  here  he  must  have 
had  that  noble  indignation  against  the  iniquities  of  the 
place — the  outrages  committed  on  the  laws  of  God,  and 
the  dishonour  done  to  the  nature  of  man  made  in  the 
Divine  image — to  wliich  David  and  Jeremiah,  and  all  the 
loftiest  spirits  of  mankind,  have  given  such  stern  and  yet 
pathetic  utterance.  Wliat  others  were  callous  to,  filled 
him  with  keen  shame  and  sorrow.  He  who  could  have 
wished  that  himself  were  accursed  from  Christ  for  his 
brethren,  his  kinsmen  according  to  the  flesh,  must  have 
had  a  profound  pity  for  these  wTetched  victims  of 
profligacy,  who  were  looking  in  their  ignorance  for 
salvation  to  a  brutal  mortal  w^orse  than  themselves, — "  the 
son  of  perdition,  sitting  in  the  temple  of  God,  showing 
that  he  was  God."  And  to  this  feeling  of  indignation 
and  sorrow,  because  of  the  wickedness  of  the  place,  must 
have  been  added  a  feeling  of  personal  despondency. 
From  the  significant  circumstance  that  the  apostle  thanked 
God,  and  took  courage,  when  he  met  the  Christian 
brethren  at  Apii  Forum,  we  may  infer  that  he  had 
previously  great  heaviness  of  spirit.  He  would  be  more 
or  less  than  human,  if  on  setting  his  foot  for  the  first 
time  on  the  native  soil  of  the  conquerors  of  his  country, 
and  the  lords  of  the  whole  world,  and  seeing  on  every 
side,  even  at  this  distance  from  the  imperial  city,  over- 
whelming evidences  of  the  luxury  and  power  of  the 
empire,  he  did  not  feel  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  personal 
insignificance.  Evil  had  throned  itselt  there  on  the  high 
places  of  the  earth,  and  could  mock  at  the  puny  efi"orts  of 
the  followers  of  Jesus  to  cast  it  down.  Idolatry  had  so 
deeply  rooted  itself  in  the  interests  and  passions  of  men 
which  were  bound  up  in  its  continuance,  that  it  seemed  a 
foolish  dream  to  expect  that  it  would  be  supplanted  by 


XII 


ST.  PAUL  AT  PUTEOLI 


387 


the  preaching  of  the  Cross,  which  to  St.  Paul's  own  people 

was  a  stumbling-block  and  to  all  other  nations  foolishness. 

And  who  was  he  that  he  should  undertake  such  a  mission 

— a  weak  and  obscure  member  of  a  despised   race,  a 

prisoner  chained  to  a  soldier,  appealing  to  Caesar  against 

the  condemnation  of  his  own  countrymen.     We  can  well 

believe,  that  notwithstanding  the  sustaining  grace  that 

was  given  to  him,  the  heart  of  the  aposde  must  have  been 

very  heavy  when  he  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  jostling  crowd 

on  the  quay  of  Puteofi,  and  took  the  first  step  there  on 

Italian  soil  of  his  journey  to  Rome.     He  felt  most  keenly 

all  that  a  man  can  feel  of  the  shame  and  offence  of  the 

Cross ;   but   nevertheless   he  was   not  ashamed  of  the 

Gospel   of   Christ.      And    his    presence    there    on    that 

Roman    quay — a  despised  prisoner   in    bonds  for   the 

sake  of  the  Gospel — is  a  picture,  that  appeals  to  every 

heart,  of  the  triumph  of  Divine  strength  in  the  midst 

of  human  weakness  ;  and  a  most  striking  proof,  moreover, 

that  not  by  might,  but  by  the  Spirit  of  love,  does  God 

bring  down  the  strongholds  of  sin. 

But  God  furnished  a  providential  cure  for  whatever 
despondency  the  apostle  may  have  felt.  No  sooner  did 
he  land  than  he  found  himself  surrounded  by  Christian 
brethren,  who  cordially  welcomed  him,  and  persuaded 
him  to  remain  with  them  seven  days.  Such  brotherly 
kindness  must  have  greatly  cheered  him ;  and  the  week 
spent  among  these  loyal  followers  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
must  have  been  a  time  of  bodily  and  spiritual  refreshment 
opportunely  fitting  him  for  the  trying  experiences  before 
him.  Doubtless  these  brethren  were  Jewish  converts  to 
the  Christian  faith ;  for  that  there  were  Jewish  residents 
at  Puteoli,  residing  in  the  Tyrian  quarter  of  the  city,  we 
are  assured  by  Josephus ;  and  this  we  should  have 
expected  from  the  mercantile  importance  of  the  place 
and  its  intimate  commercial  relations  with  the  East. 
How  they  came  under  the  influence  of  the  Gospel  w^e 
know  not ;  they  may  have  been  among  "  the  strangers  of 
Rome  "  who  came  to  Jerusalem  at  Pentecost  to  keep  the 


388 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP, 


national  feasts  in  obedience  to  the  Mosaic  Law,  and  who 
were  then  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  by  the 
preaching  of  St.  Peter ;  or  perhaps  they  were  converts  of 
St  Paul's  own  making,  in  some  of  the  numerous  places 
which  he  visited  on  his  missionary  tours,  and  who  after- 
wards came  to  reside  for  business  purposes  at  this  port. 
We  see  in  the  presence  of  the  Jewish  brethren  at  Puteoli 
one  of  the  most  striking  illustrations  of  the  providential 
pre-arrangements  made  for  the  diffusion  of  the  Gospel 
throughout  all  nations.  The  Jews  had  a  more  than 
ordinary  attachment  to  their  native  land.  Patriotism  in 
their  case  was  not  only  a  passion,  but  a  part  of  their 
religion ;  and  their  love  of  country  was  entwined  with 
the  holiest  feelings  of  their  nature.  In  Jerusalem  alone 
could  God  be  acceptably  worshipped.  And  yet  it  was 
divinely  ordered  that  those  who  had  been  for  ages  the 
hermits  of  the  human  race  should  become  all  at  once  the 
most  cosmopolitan,  when  the  time  for  imparting  to  the 
world  the  benefits  of  their  isolated  religious  training  had 
come.  And  the  Jews  thus  scattered  abroad  preserved 
amid  their  alien  circumstances  their  national  worship  and 
customs,  and  thus  became  the  natural  links  of  connection 
between  the  missionaries  of  the  Cross  and  the  Gentiles 
whom  they  wished  to  reach.  Through  such  Jewish 
channels  the  Gospel  speedily  penetrated  into  remote 
localities,  which  otherwise  it  would  have  taken  a  long 
time  to  reach.  We  are  struck  with  distinct  traces  of  the 
Christian  faith  in  the  time  of  St.  Paul  in  the  most  unex- 
pected places.  For  instance,  in  the  National  Museum  at 
Naples  I  have  seen  rings  with  Christian  emblems  engraved 
upon  them,  which  were  found  at  Pompeii ;  proving  beyond 
doubt  that  there  had  been  followers  of  Jesus  even  in  that 
dissolute  place,  who,  unlike  Lot  and  his  household,  were 
overwhelmed  in  the  same  destruction  with  those  whose 
evil  deeds  must  have  daily  vexed  their  righteous  souls. 
The  same  symbols  which  we  find  in  the  Roman 
Catacombs, — the  palm  branch,  the  sacred  fish  the 
monogram  of  Jesus,  the  dove,  are  unmistakably  repre- 


XII 


ST.   PAUL  AT  PUTEOLI 


389 


sented  on  these  rings.  Some  of  them  are  double, 
indicating  that  they  were  used  by  married  persons  :  one 
has  the  palm  branch  twice  repeated  ;  another  exhibits  the 
palm  and  anchor ;  a  third  has  a  dove  with  a  twig  in 
its  bill ;  and  one  ring  has  the  Greek  word  elpis — hope — 
inscribed  upon  it. 

St.  Paul  at  Puteoli  may  be  said  to  have  dwelt  among 
his  own  people.     Not  only  was  he  with  his  own  country- 
men  and  fellow-disciples,  but   he  was  in  the  midst   of 
associations  that  forcibly  recalled  his  home.     The  apostle 
was  a  citizen  of  a  Greek  city,  and  the  language  in  which 
he  spoke  was  Greek ;  and  here,  in  the  Bay  of  Naples,  he 
was  in  the  midst  of  a  Greek  colony,  where  Roman  influence 
had  not  been  able  to  efface  the  deep  impression  which 
Greece  had  made  upon  the  place.     The  original  name 
of  the  splendid  expanse  of  water  before  him  was  the  Bay 
of  Cumae ;   and  Cumae  was  absolutely  the   first   Greek 
settlement  in  the  western  seas.     Neapolis  or  Parthenope 
was  the  beautiful  Greek  name  of  the  city  of  Naples, 
testifying  to  its  Hellenic  origin;  and  Dicaearchia  was  the 
older  Greek  name  of  Puteoli,  a  name  used  to  a  late 
period  in  preference  to  its  Latin  name,  derived  from  the 
numerous  mineral  springs  in  the  neighbourhood.     The 
whole  lower  part  of  Italy  was  wholly  Greek ;  its  arts,  its 
customs,  its  literature,  were  all  Hellenic ;  and  its  people 
belonged  to  the  pure  Ionic  race  whose  keen  imagina- 
tions  and   vivid   sensuousness    seemed   to   have    been 
created  out  of  the  fervid  hues  and  the  pellucid  air  of 
their  native  land.     Everywhere  the  subtle  Greek  tongue 
might  be  heard ;  and  all,  so  far  as  Greek  influence  was 
concerned,  was  as  unchanged  in  the  days  of  the  apostle 
as  when  Pythagoras  visited  the  region,  and  adopted  the 
inhabitants  as  the  fittest  agents  in  his  great  scheme  of 
universal  regeneration.     St.   Paul  therefore,  at  Puteoli, 
might  have  imagined  himself  standing  on  the  very  soil 
of  classic  Hellas,  and  felt  as  much  at  home  as  in  his 
own    native    city    of  Tarsus.      This    wide    diffusion   of 
the  Greek  language  throughout  the  West  as  well  as  the 


390 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


East  at  this  time  is  another  of  the  remarkable  providential 
pre-arrangements  which  prepared  the  way  for  the  preach- 
ing of  the  Gospel  throughout  the  world.     A  Gentile 
speech,  by  a  series  of  wonderful  events,  was  thus  made 
ready  over  all  the  world  to  receive  and  to  communicate 
the  glorious  Gospel  that  was  to  be  preached  to  all  nations. 
The  remains  of  the  ancient  pier  upon  which  St.  Paul 
landed  may  still  be  seen.     Indeed,  no  Roman  harbour 
has  left  behind   such   solid   memorials.     No   less  than 
thirteen  of  the  buttresses  that  supported  its  arches  are 
left,  three  lying  under  water;  all  constructed  of  brick 
held  together  by  that  Roman  cement  called  pozzolana, 
after  the  town  of  Pozzuoli,  whose  extraordinary  tenacity 
rivals  that  of  the  living  rock.     You  can  plant  your  feet 
upon  the  very  stones  upon  which  the  apostle  must  have 
stood.     And  if  you  happen  to  be  there  on  the  3d  of 
May  you  will  see  a  solemn  procession  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  decayed  town,  headed  by  their  priests,  celebrating 
the  anniversary  of  this  memorable  incident.     The  first 
conspicuous  object  upon  which  the  eye  of  the  apostle 
would  rest  on  landing  would  be  the  Temple  of  Neptune, 
of  which  a  few  pillars  are  still  standing  in  the  midst  of 
the  water.     Here  Caligula,  in  his  mad  passage  over  his 
bridge  of  boats,  paused  to  offer  propitiatory  sacrifices. 
Here,  too,  C?esar,  before  he  sailed  to  Greece  to  encounter 
the  forces  of  Antony  at  Actium,  sacrificed  to  Neptune ; 
and  here  the  crew  of  every  ship  presented  offerings,  in 
order  to  secure  favouring  winds  and  waves  when  outward 
bound,  or   in   gratitude   when   returning   home   from   a 
successful  voyage.     Beyond  this  he  would  see  in  all  its 
splendour  the  famous  bathing  establishment  built  over  a  ' 
thermal  spring  near  the  sea,  which  has  since  been  known  as 
the  Temple  of  Serapis,  an  Egyptian  deity,  whose  worship 
had   spread   widely  in   Italy.      Three    tall    columns  of 
cipollino  marble,  belonging  to  the  portico  of  this  building, 
are  still  standing,  with  their  bases  under  water ;  and  they 
have  acquired  a  world-wide  interest,  especially  to  geolo- 
gists, as  records  of  the  successive  elevations  and  depres- 


XII 


ST.  PAUL  AT  PUTEOLI 


391 


sions  of  the  coast-line  during  the  historical  period  ;  these 
changes  being  indicated  on  their  shafts  by  the  different 
watermarks  and  the  perforations  of  marine  bivalves  or 
boring-shells  well  known  to  be  living  in  the  Mediterranean 
Sea.  In  the  upper  part  of  the  town,  on  a  commanding 
height,  he  would  behold  the  Temple  of  Augustus,  built 
for  the  w^orship  of  the  deified  founder  of  the  Roman 
Empire.  A  Christian  cathedral  dedicated  to  St.  Proculus, 
who  suffered  martyrdom  in  the  same  year  with  St.  Janu- 
arius,  containing  the  tomb  of  Pergolesi,  the  celebrated 
musical  composer,  now  occupies  the  site  of  the  pagan 
shrine,  and  has  six  of  its  Corinthian  pillars,  that  looked 
down  upon  the  apostle  as  he  landed,  built  into  its  walls. 
A  temple  of  Diana  and  a  temple  of  the  Nymphs  also 
adorned  the  town,  from  which  numerous  columns  and 
sculptures  have  been  recently  recovered.  On  every  side 
the  ai)ostle  would  see  mournful  tokens  that  the  city  was 
wholly  given  up  to  idolatry, — to  the  worship  of  mortal 
men  and  an  ignoble  crowd  of  gods  and  goddesses 
borrowed  from  all  nations ;  and  yet  he  had  equally  sad 
proofs  that  the  idolatry  was  altogether  a  hollow  and 
heartless  pretence, — that  the  superstitious  creed  publicly 
maintained  by  the  city  had  long  ceased  to  command  the 
respect  of  its  recognised  defenders. 

I  walked  up  from  the  town  along  the  remains  of  the 
Via  Campana,  a  cross-road  that  led  from  Puteoli  to  Capua 
and  there  joined  the  famous  Appian  Way.  Along  this 
road  the  apostle  passed  on  his  way  to  Rome ;  and  it  is 
still  paved  with  the  original  lava-blocks  upon  which  his 
feet  had  pressed.  One  of  the  principal  objects  on  the 
way  is  the  amphitheatre  of  Nero,  with  its  tiers  of  seats, 
its  arena,  and  its  subterranean  passages,  in  a  wonderful 
state  of  preservation,  richly  plumed  with  the  delicate 
fronds  of  the  maiden-hair  fern,  which  drapes  with  its 
living  loveliness  so  many  of  the  ruins  of  Greece  and  Italy. 
It  was  here  that  Nero  himself  rehearsed  the  parts  in 
which  he  wished  to  act  on  the  more  public  stage  of 
Rome.     The  sands   of  the  arena  were   dyed   with  the 


392 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


blood  of  St.  Januarius,  who  was  thrown  to  the  wild  beasts 
by  order  of  Diocletian,  and  whose  blood  is  annually 
liquefied  by  a  supposititious  miracle  in  Naples  at  the 
present  day.  Behind  the  amphitheatre  the  apostle  would 
get  a  glimpse  of  the  famous  Phlegraean  Fields  so  often 
referred  to  in  the  classic  poets  as  the  scene  of  the  wars 
of  the  gods  and  the  giants. 

This  is  the  Holy  Land  of  Paganism.      All  the  scenery 
of  the  eleventh  book  of  the   Odyssey  and  of  the  sixth 
book  of  the  ^Etieid  spreads  beneath  the  eye.      At  every 
step    you    come   upon    some   spot   associated   with   the 
romantic    literature    of    antiquity.       From    thence    the 
imaginative  shapes  of  Greek  mythology  passed  into  the 
poetry  of  Rome.     There  everything  takes   us  back  far 
beyond  the  birth  of  Roman  civilisation,  and  reminds  us 
of  the  legends  of  the  older  Hellenic  days,   which   will 
exercise  an  undying  spell  on  the  higher  minds  of  the 
human  race  down  to  the  latest  ages.      It  is  the  land  of 
Virgil,  whose  own  tomb  is  not  far  off;    and  under  the 
guidance  of  his  genius  we  visit  the  ghostly  Cimmerian 
shores,  now  bathed  in  glowing  sunshine,  and  stand  on 
spots  that  thrilled  the  hearts  of  Hercules  and   Ulysses 
with  awe.      There   the  terrible  Avernus,  to  which  the 
descent  was  so  easy,  sleeps  in  its  deep  basin,  long  ago 
divested  by  the  axe  of  Agrippa  of  the  impenetrable  gloom 
and  mysterious  dread  which  its  dark  forests  had  created  ; 
its  steep  banks  partly  covered  with  natural  copsewood 
bright  with  a  living  mosaic  of  cyclamens  and  lilies,  and 
partly  formed  of  cultivated  fields.      During  my  visit  the 
delicious  odour  of  the  bean  blossom  pervaded  the  fields, 
reminding  me  vividly  of  familiar  rural  scenes  far  away. 
Yonder  is  the  subterranean  passage  called  by  the  common 
people  the  Sibyl's  Cave,  where  ^neas  came  and  plucked 
the  golden  bough,  and,  led  by  the  melancholy  priestess 
of  Apollo,  went  down  to  the  dreary  world  of  the  dead. 
It  was  the  general  tradition  of  Pagan  nations  that  the 
point  of  departure  from  this  world,  as  well  as  the  entrance 
to  the  next,  was  always  in  the  west.    We  find  the  largest 


XII 


ST.   PAUL  AT  PUTEOLI 


393 


number  of  the  prehistoric  relics  of  the  dead  on  the 
western  shores  of  our  own  country.  The  cave  of  Loch 
Dearg — at  first  connected  with  primitive  pagan  rites  and 
subsequently  the  traditional  entrance  to  the  Purgatory 
of  St  Patrick — is  situated  in  the  west  of  Ireland,  and 
corresponds  to  the  cave  of  the  Sibyl  and  the  Lake  of 
Avernus  in  Italy.  Indeed  the  word  Avernus  itself  bears 
such  a  close  resemblance  to  the  Gaelic  word  Ifrinn — the 
name  of  the  infernal  regions,  and  to  the  name  of  Loch 
Hourn,  the  Lake  of  Hell,  on  the  north-west  coast  of 
Scotland — that  it  has  given  rise  to  the  supposition  that 
it  was  the  legacy  of  a  prehistoric  Celtic  people  who  at  one 
time  inhabited  the  Phlegraean  Fields.  On  the  other  side 
of  Lake  Avernus  is  the  Mare  Morto,  the  Lake  or  Sea  of 
the  Dead,  with  its  memories  of  Charon  and  his  ghostly 
crew,  which  now  shines  in  the  setting  sun  like  a  field  of 
gold  sparkling  with  jewels  ;  and  beyond  it  are  the  Elysian 
Fields,  the  abodes  of  the  blessed,  the  rich  life  of  whose 
soil  breaks  out  at  every  pore  into  a  luxuriant  maze  of 
vines  and  orange  trees,  and  all  manner  of  lovely  and 
fruitful  vegetation.  Still  farther  behind  is  the  Acherusian 
Marsh  of  the  poets,  now  called  the  Lake  of  Fusaro,  because 
hemp  and  flax  are  put  to  steep  in  it ;  and  the  river  Styx 
itself,  by  which  the  gods  dare  not  swear  in  vain,  reduced 
to  an  insignificant  rill  flowing  into  the  sea.  It  is  most 
interesting  to  think  of  the  apostle  Paul  being  associated 
with  this  enchanted  region.  His  presence  on  the  scene 
is  necessary  to  complete  its  charm,  and  to  remind  us  that 
the  vain  dreams  of  those  blind  old  seekers  after  God 
were  all  fulfilled  in  Him  who  opened  a  door  for  us  in 
heaven,  and  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  in  the 
(jospel. 

St.  Paul  must  have  noticed — though  Scripture,  intent 
only  upon  the  unfolding  of  the  religious  drama,  makes 
no  reference  to  it — the  crater  of  Solfatara,  one  of  the 
most  wonderful  phenomena  of  this  wonderful  region,  for 
it  lay  directly  in  his  path,  and  was  only  about  a  mile 
distant  from  Puteoli.     This  was  the  famous  Forum  of 


394 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAP. 


Vulcan,  where  the  god  fashioned  his  terrible  tools,  and 
shook  the  earth  with  the  fierce  fires  of  his  forge.  On 
account  of  its  gaseous  fumaroles,  and  the  flames  thrown 
out  with  a  loud  roaring  noise  from  one  gloomy  cavern  in 
its  side,  this  volcano  may  still  be  considered  active.  Its 
white  calcined  crater  is  clothed  in  some  places  with  green 
shrubs,  particularly  with  luxuriant  sage,  myrtle,  and  white 
heather  ;  but  an  eruption  took  place  in  it  so  late  as  1 198, 
during  which  a  lava  current,  a  rare  phenomenon  in  this 
district,  flowed  from  its  southern  edge  to  the  sea,  destroy- 
ing the  ancient  cemetery  on  the  Via  Puteolana,  and  form- 
ing the  present  promontory  of  Olibano.  The  ground 
sounds  hollow  beneath  a  heavy  tread,  reminding  one 
unpleasantly  that  but  a  thin  crust  covers  the  fiery  abyss 
which  might  break  through  at  any  moment.  With  the 
exception  of  Vesuvius,  this  is  the  only  surviving  remnant 
of  the  fierce  elemental  forces  which  have  devastated  this 
coast  in  every  direction.  The  whole  region  is  one  mass 
of  craters  of  various  sizes  and  ages,  some  far  older  than 
Vesuvius,  and  others  of  comparatively  recent  origin. 
They  are  all  craters  of  eruption  and  not  of  elevation  ; 
and  in  their  formation  they  have  interfered  with  and 
in  some  cases  almost  obliterated  pre-existing  ones.  Some 
of  them  are  filled  with  lakes,  and  others  clothed  with 
luxuriant  vineyards,  and  wild  woods  fit  for  the  chase,  or 
encircling  cultivated  fields.  To  one  looking  upon  it  from 
a  commanding  position  such  as  the  heights  of  Posilipo, 
the  landscape  presents  a  universally  blistered  appearance. 
Hot  mineral  springs  everywhere  abound,  often  associated 
with  the  ruins  of  old  Roman  baths  ;  and  the  soil  is  a 
white  felspathic  ash,  disposed  in  layers  of  such  fineness 
and  regularity  that  they  look  as  if  they  had  been  stratified 
under  water,  the  sea  and  the  shore  having  alternately 
given  place  to  each  other.  Of  the  w^hite  earth  abounding 
on  every  side,  which  has  given  to  the  place  the  old 
name  of  Campi  Leucogaii,  and  is  the  result  of  the  meta- 
morphosis of  the  trachytic  tufa  by  the  chemical  action 
of  the  gases  that  rise  up  through  the  fumaroles,  a  very 


XII 


ST.   PAUL  AT  PUTEOLI 


395 


fine  variety  of  porcelain — known  to  collectors  as  Capo 
di  Monti — used  to  be  made  on  the  hill  behind  Naples, 
and  it  has  been  supposed  that  the  china  clays  of  Cornwall 
and  other  places  have  been  produced  from  the  felspars  of 
the  granites  in  a  similar  way.  The  w^hole  of  the  Solfatara 
crater  has  been  enclosed  for  the  purpose  of  manufactur- 
ing alum  from  its  soil.  On  the  hillside  to  the  north 
there  are  several  caverns,  called  stufe^  from  whence  gas 
and  hot  steam  arise,  and  these  are  used  by  the  inhabit- 
ants as  admirable  vapour  baths.  So  late  as  the  year 
1538  a  terrible  volcanic  explosion,  accompanied  with 
violent  earthquakes,  happened  not  far  from  Puteoli,  w^hich 
threw  up  from  the  flat  plain  on  which  the  village  of 
Tripergola  stood,  a  mountain  called  Monte  Nuovo,  four 
hundred  and  forty  feet  high  and  a  mile  and  a  half  in  cir- 
cumference, consisting  entirely  of  ashes  and  cinders, 
obliterating  a  large  part  of  the  celebrated  Leucrine  Lake, 
elevating  the  site  of  the  temple  of  Serapis  sixteen  feet, 
and  then  depressing  it,  and  generally  changing  the  old 
features  of  this  locality.  This  eruption  gave  relief  to  the 
throes  of  Lake  Avernus,  which  henceforth  ceased  to  send 
forth  its  exhalations,  and  became  the  cheerful  garden 
scene  w^hich  \ve  now  behold. 

Here  on  a  small  scale,  in  the  very  neighbourhood  of 
man's  busiest  haunts,  occur  the  cosmical  cataclysms  which 
are  usually  seen  only  in  remote  solitudes,  and  which 
during  the  unknown  ages  of  geology  have  left  their  in- 
delible records  on  large  portions  of  the  earth's  surface. 
Here  we  are  admitted  into  the  very  workshop  of  Nature, 
and  are  privileged  to  witness  her  processes  of  creation. 
In  the  neighbourhood  of  Rome  the  volcanoes  are  long 
extinct.  Nature  is  dead,  and  there  is  nothing  left  but 
her  cold  gray  ashes.  But  here  we  see  her  in  all  her 
vigour,  changing  and  renewing  and  mingling  the  ruins  of 
her  works  in  strange  association  with  those  of  man — the 
ashes  of  her  volcanoes  with  the  fragments  of  temples  and 
baths  and  the  houses  of  Roman  senators  and  poets.  The 
whole  region  lies  over  a  burning  mystery,  and  one  has  a 


396 


ROMAN  MOSAICS 


CHAF. 


constant  feeling  of  insecurity  lest  the  ground  should  open 
suddenly  and  precipitate  one  into  the  very  heart  of  it. 
Naples  itself,  strange  to  say,  a  city  of  more  than  five  hun- 
dred thousand  inhabitants,  is  built  in  great  part  within  an 
old  broken-down  volcanic  crater,  and  the  proximity  of  its 
awful  neighbour  shows  that  it  standsperilously  on  the  brink 
of  destruction,  and  may  share  at  any  time  the  fate  of 
Pompeii  and  Herculaneum.  Were  it  not  for  the  safety- 
valves  of  Vesuvius  and  Solfatara,  the  whole  intermediate 
region,  with  its  towns  and  villages  and  swarming  population, 
would  be  blown  into  the  air  by  the  vehement  forces  that 
are  struggling  beneath.  It  was  this  elemental  war — fiercer, 
we  have  reason  to  believe,  in  classic  times  than  now — that 
gave  rise  to  the  religious  fables  of  the  poets.  The  gloomy 
shades  of  Avernus,  the  tremendous  battles  of  the  gods, 
the  dark  pictures  of  Tartarus  and  the  Stygian  river,  were 
the  supernatural  suggestions  of  a  fiery  soil.  To  the  fierce 
throes  of  volcanic  action  we  owe  the  weird  mythology  of 
the  ancients,  which  has  imparted  such  a  profound  charm 
to  the  region,  and  also,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  sur- 
passing loveliness  of  Nature  herself.  The  fairest  regions 
of  the  earth  are  ever  those  where  the  awful  power  of  fire 
has  been  at  work,  giving  to  the  landscape  that  passionate 
expression  which  lights  up  a  human  face  with  its  most 
impressive  beauty. 

The  visit  of  the  apostle  to  Puteoli  served  many  im- 
portant purposes.  He  who  had  sent  his  people  Israel 
into  Egypt  and  Bablyon  that  they  might  be  benefited  by 
coming  into  contact  with  other  civilisations,  sent  St.  Paul 
to  this  famous  region  where  Greece  and  Rome — which, 
geographically  and  historically,  were  turned  back  to  back, 
the  face  of  Greece  looking  eastward,  the  face  of  Italy 
looking  westward — seemed  to  meet  and  to  blend  into 
each  other,  in  order  that  his  sympathies  might  be  ex- 
panded by  coming  into  contact  with  all  that  man  could 
realise  of  earthly  glory  or  conceive  of  religion.  We  can 
trace  the  overruling  Hand  that  was  shaping  the  destinies 
of  the  Church  in  the  course  which  he  was  led  to  take 


XII 


ST.   PAUL  AT  PUTEOLI 


397 


from  Jerusalem  to  Damascus,  and  thence  to  Asia  Minor, 
Corinth,  Athens,  Philippi,  Puteoli,  and  Rome ;  gathering 
as  he  went  along  the  fruits  of  all  the  wide  diversity  of 
experience  and  culture  characterising  these  places,  to 
equip  him  more  thoroughly  for  his  work  for  the  Gentiles. 
And  we  see  also  how  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel  were 
becoming  more  clearly  and  fully  unfolded  by  this  method 
of  progression  ;  how  questions  were  settled  and  principles 
carried  out  which  have  shown  to  us  the  exceeding  riches 
of  Divine  grace  in  a  way  that  we  could  not  otherwise 
have  known.  Like  the  lines  and  marks  of  the  chrysalis 
which  appear  on  the  body  of  the  butterfly  when  it  first 
spreads  out  its  wings  to  fly — like  the  folds  of  the  bud 
which  may  be  seen  in  the  newly-expanded  leaf  or  flower 
— so  Christianity  at  first  emerged  from  its  Jewish  sheath 
with  the  distinctive  marks  of  Judaism  upon  it.  But  as  it 
passed  westward  from  the  Holy  City,  it  slowly  extricated 
itself  out  of  the  spirit  and  the  trammels  of  Judaism  into 
the  self-restraining  freedom  which  Christ  gives  to  His 
people.  The  teaching  of  the  Gospel  was  fully  developed, 
guarded  from  all  possible  misinterpretation,  and  practic- 
ally applied  to  all  representative  circumstances  of  men, 
through  its  coming  into  contact  with  the  events,  persons, 
and  scenes  associated  with  the  wonderful  missionary 
journeyings  of  the  apostle  Paul,  which  began  at  Jerusa- 
lem and  terminated  at  Rome.  When  the  Gospel  reached 
the  Imperial  City,  its  relations  to  Jews  and  Gentiles, 
bond  and  free,  were  fixed  for  ever,  its  own  form  was  per- 
fected, and  the  conditions  for  its  diffusion  matured ; 
and  its  history  henceforth,  like  that  of  Rome  itself,  was 
synonymous  with  the  history  of  the  world. 


Printed  by  R.  &  R.  Ch\7iK,.EdtttBursh. 


WORKS  BY  THE 
REV.  HUGH  MACMILLAN,  LL.D.,  P.R.S.E. 


BIBLE  TEACHINGS  IN  NATURE.    Fifteentli  Edition.    Crown 
8vo,  cloth.     6s. 

"Ably  and  eloquently  written.  It  is  a  thoughtful  book,  and  one  that  is 
prolific  of  thoufiht."— Pa/Z  Mall  Gazette. 

"  ]\Ir.  Macniillan  writes  extremely  well,  and  has  produced  a  book  which 
may  be  fitly  described  as  one  of  the  happiest  eflbrts  for  enlisting  physical 
science  in  the  direct  service  of  religion.  Under  his  treatment  slie  becomes 
tiie  willing  handmaid  of  an  instructed  and  contemplative  devotion." — The 
Guardian. 

"  We  part  from  Mr.  Macmillan  with  exceeding  gratitude.  He  has  made  the 
world  more  beautiful  to  us,  and  unsealed  our  ears  to  voices  of  praise  and  mes- 
sages of  love  that  might  otliervvise  have  been  unheard.  We  commend  tlie 
volume  not  only  as  a  valuable  appendix  to  works  of  natural  theology,  but  as  a 
series  of  prose  idylls  of  unusual  merit."— British  Quarterly  lleview. 

SEQUEL  TO  ''BIBLE  TEACHINGS  IN  NATURE." 

THE  SABBATH    OF    THE    FIELDS.      Fifth   Edition.      Globe 
8vo.     6s. 

"This  book  is  a  worthy  sequel  to  Mr.  Macmillan's  admirable  'Bible  Teach- 
ings  in  Nature.'  In  it  there  is  the  same  intimate  communion  with  nature  and 
the  same  kind  of  spiritual  instruction  as  in  its  predecessor." — Standard. 

"This  volume,  like  all  Dr.  Macmillan's  productions,  is  very  deliglitful  read- 
ing, and  of  a  special  kind.  Imagination,  natural  science,  and  religious  instruc- 
tion are  blended  together  in  a  very  charming  way." — British  Quarterly  Review. 

OUR  LORD'S  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD.     Globe 

8vo.     6s. 

"His  narrative  style  is  pleasant,  and  his  reflections  sensible.' — Westminster 
Review. 

THE  MINISTRY  OF  NATURE.     Seventh  Edition.     Globe  8vo. 
6s. 

"The  author  exhibits  throughout  his  writings  the  liappiest  characteristics 
of  a  God-fearing,  and,  withal,  essentially  liberal  and  unprejudiced  mind.  Of 
the  Essays  themselves  we  cannot  speak'in  t«rms  of  too  warm  admiration." — 
Standard. 

"  We  can  give  unqualified  praise  to  this  most  charming  and  suggestive 
volume.  As  studies  of  nature  they  are  new  and  striking  in  information, 
l)eautiful  in  description,  rich  in  spiritual  thought,  and  especially  helpful  and 
instructive  to  all  religious  teachers.  If  a  preacher  desires  to  see  how  lie  can 
give  freshness  to  his  ministry,  how  he  can  clothe  old  and  familiar  tniths  in 
new  forms,  and  so  invest  the'm  with  new  attractions,  how  he  can  secure  real 
beauty  an<l  interest  without  straining  after  ed'ect,  he  could  not  do  better  than 
study  this  book." — Nonconformist. 

THE  TRUE  VINE ;  OR,  THE  ANALOGIES  OF  OUR  LORD'S 
ALLEGORY.     Fifth  Edition.     Globe  8vo.     6s. 

"The  volume  strikes  us  as  being  especially  well  suited  for  a  book  of 
devotional  reading." — Spectator. 

"  Mr.  Macmillan  has  thrown  beautiful  light  upon  many  points  of  natural 
symbolism.  Reaiiers  and  preachers  who  are  unscientific  will  find  many  of 
his  illustrations  as  valuable  as  they  are  beautiful."— iir if u«/t  Quarterly  Review. 

"It  abounds  in  exquisite  bits  of  description,  and  in  striking  facts  clearly- 
stated.  "—Nonconformist. 

MACMILLAN  AND  CO.,  LONDON. 


Works  by  the  Rev.  Hugh  Macmi  I  Ian.— (Continued.) 

FIRST  FORMS  OF  VEGETATION.     Second  Edition.    Corrected 
and  Enlarged.     With   Coloured   Frontispiece   and   numerous 
Illustrations.     Globe  8vo.     6s. 
The  first  edition  of  this  book  was  published  under  the  name  of 
'«  Footnotes  from  the  Page  of  Nature  ;  or,  First  Forms  of  Vegeta- 
tion."    Upwards  of  a  hundred  pages  of  new   matter  have  been 
added  to  this  new  edition,  and  eleven  new  illustrations. 

"Probably  the  best  popular  guide  to  the  practical  study  of  "^^^ses  licheuK, 

and  funTever  written      Its  practical  value  as  a  help  to  the  student  and  col- 

ectorino:  be  exaggerated,  and  it  will  be  no  less  useful  m  ca  Img  the 

attention  of  others  to  the  wonders  of  nature  in  the  most  modern  products  of 

the  vegetable  woria."— Manchester  Examiner. 

HOLIDAYS   ON  HIGH   LANDS;   OK,   RAMBLES   AND   IN- 
CIDENTS   IN   SEARCH   OF  ALPINE   PLANTS.     Second 
Edition.     Revised  and  Enlarged.     Globe  8vo.     6s. 
-A  series  of  delightful  lectures  on  the  botany  of  some  of  the  best  known 
mountain  regions."— Gwardian. 

.'Mr  Macmillan's  glowing  pictures  of  Scandinavian  nature  are  enough  to 
y^i^afJinl^TZ^^^^^^  d'etre  to  t.ke  the  same  interesting  high  lands  for 
the  scenes  of  his  own  autumn  holidays."-Sa<«rda2/  Review. 

TWO  WORLDS  ARE  OURS.     Third  Edition.     Globe  8vo.     6s. 

..  Any  one  of  the  chapters  may  be  taken  up  separately  and  read  with  pleas- 
nre  and  profit  by  those  whose  hours  for  helpful  reading  are  Imnted.  The  ease 
Tl  ™e  of  styL  common  to  all  Dr.  Macmillan's  writings  are  palpable  m  t^is 
vo  ume  ?h  mii^cles  of  the  Old  Testament,  as  well  as  the  teachrngs  o 
natTe  have  interesting  elucidations  in  it.  and  readers  have  the  ^nefit  of 
scriTilrar  studies  and  extensive  researches  in  nature  ^-\^'^'-'\^f'}>^ 
?he  author,  to  add  to  their  information  and  sustam  their  interest.  -The 
Theological  Quarterly. 

THE  MARRIAGE  IN  CANA  OF  GALILEE.    Globe  8vo.     6s. 

..Dr  Macmillan  expounds  the  circumstances  of  this  miracle  with  much 
care  ^^th  a  good  sense  and  a  sound  judgment  that  are  but  rarely  at  fault, 
^w^hsome  happy  illustrations  supplied  by  his  knowledge  of  natural  pre- 
cept."— 37ie  Spectator. 

THE  OLIVE  LEAF.     Globe  8vo.     6s. 

..  Distinguished  by  felicity  of  style,  delicate  insight,  and  rjpt  applica^on  of 
thenhenomena  of  nature  to  spiritual  truths  that  have  rendered  the  author  s 
prevtus  wrings  popular.  These  fresh  studies  of  forest  trees,  foliage,  and 
wild  flowers  are  very  pleasant  reading."-Sa<«rday  Bevi^v,. 

MACMILLAN  AND  CO.,  LONDON. 


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